


Operation: Go Home

by shockfactor



Category: RWBY, XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crossover, Mental Instability, Metahumans, Multi, Volume 2 (RWBY), XCOM 2 Early Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-06-29 03:44:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 121,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shockfactor/pseuds/shockfactor
Summary: You tell someone from 2015 that aliens will rule the world by 2016, they'll call you a liar.You tell someone from 2020 that XCOM will rise up to fight said aliens, they'll call you a liar.You tell XCOM that a bunch of teenagers are gonna be their only hope of survival, they'll most likely shoot you after calling you a liar.





	1. The Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> Monsters are real in a post-war Earth, so why can't the rest of the fairy tales? Go ahead, try to think of an excuse.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reach out and touch something new.

_Journal Entry, March 28th, 2035._  
  
_Sergeant Adam Quincy Jones, Sharpshooter, Menace Team._  
  
  
_You know... life really sucks._

 _Now, before you lay into me for complaining, hear me out. Life bloody sucks. This is coming from a veteran of the Old War, the one that lasted all of 3 blessed months. Sure, this is better than living under Advent's heel, but goddammit, it's not by  much. Food's even harder to come by, half the men we're training with are wet blanket cunts, batshit crazy, or stupid kids. Sometimes, you get one of those ones that's all of the above, like Walker. That fuckin' idiot doesn't know his arse from his elbow. Luckily, Central's made sure word of mouth about yours truly gets around, so I get my due respect... and my fair share of getting mocked as 'gramps' or 'daddy' or something of the like._  
  
_Not my fault I've been kicking alien ass since some of those twats have been in diapers. Chief Engineer Shen was a wee tadpole when the world officially went to shit, I remember it like it was yesterday. God, I miss Raymond, thinking about it. He always took care of us grunts. And even Vahlen had her moments of brilliance- even though it wasn't her specialty, she made a point of checking in with the head of Medical whenever someone was interred._  
  
_Up until today, we never had closure on Vahlen. But as of today, we just might._  
  
_You see, about two weeks ago, we found the crash site of an old friend. The old Skyranger. Big Sky was nowhere to be found, but there was no signs of a struggle there, either. Maybe he got out. But that wasn't what caught us by surprise. What DID was that these guys had contact with Vahlen. RECENT contact. As in, a day before. We got some loot out of it, but... I'm still worried. Things are getting worse on my-OUR end. We need Vahlen more than ever. That's why I'm so glad we intercepted her signal. She sent out some sort of... distress call or something. We triangulated the position of it, but... God, I hope she's alive._  
  
_I see very little hope for XCOM if she isn't.  Bradford's pinning everything on this. He isn't saying so, but I can see it in his eyes. It was something of an open secret that he was close to the woman, although how anyone can be close to that prickly bitch is beyond me. No one's had the heart to tell him this is probably a lost cause, besides Tygan. Never thought I'd approve of that little quisling, but for once he has a point. Didn't stop Bradford from chartering this mission himself. He's got the best of the best. Lieutenant MacAuley, myself, Corporal Nikos, and Private Delacroix._  
  
_Anyway, the El-Zed's up ahead. I'll update when this is over._

* * *

It was a surprise to no one that Bradford insisted on being the first one out of the Skyranger's door. No one was thrilled about the man taking the field, especially because, since the Commander was locked up in his office all day, that meant Bradford was for all intents and purposes, in charge of XCOM's day to day operations. Adam was the least thrilled of them all- at this point, it seemed Bradford was shaping up to be his only friend. Sure, he and Shen were cordial, but Bradford was the one anchor he had back to the Old World, back before things went to hell. Adam had volunteered for this mission the moment he heard Vahlen's name because he knew more than anyone that Bradford would go running like mad. Everything else just fell into place.   
  
Adam looked back to his squad- he'd worked with MacAuley back at the start of the revived XCOM-  _with Jane,_ he added with a mental kick in the ribs- when the team was assigned with smacking down an ADVENT convoy. It didn't go all according to plan, but MacAuley had managed to make it work. He was a master at pulling people together, even if they really, REALLY didn't want to BE together. The Aussie'd taken to wearing a pinned up boonie hat, lined with bullets. He said it just felt comfortable, plus he 'had to make it glaringly obvious to everyone on Earth that I'm Australian'. It definitely looked right on him, even if the camo looked silly. Black and grey.   
  
Behind him, Alexios Nikos and Declan Delacroix checked their weapons, with Declan drawing one of the axes they'd found from the Big Sky wreck. Ugly, but Declan'd been training with them for the past week, day in and day out. He could use them consistently now, he said. In the meantime, Adam noted that Alexios looked nothing like he'd expected him to.  
  
"Thought you'd be shorter," he said, vocalizing the thought conservatively. Considering that Adam was 6 foot even, he wasn't used to be looked down at, but the 6'4" Greek managed it.  
  
"I get that a lot," came the equally conservative reply. The specialist brushed past him, calling up his Gremlin- Murphy called it HAV-C, or "Havoc"- to scan the area. "I'm not getting anything unusual," he said. "Got a lot of snakes crawling around, but... other than that, nothin'."  
  
"Whaddya think's up with that?" Declan asked," I ain't never seen this many damn snakes in all my days."  
  
"I dunno, that's what we're here to find out."  
  
As Firebrand closed up the door and the squad formed up, Tygan made contact via HAV-C.  _"Biological readings in this area are... erratic, Central. In addition to multiple species of alien fau-"_  
  
Bradford threw up his fist, causing the squad to stop dead in their tracks. "Hold on, Doctor. We've got something."  
  
Alexios stepped aside, looking down as Bradford walked forward. "Yep. PDA. Looks like an older model. Like, 2020s old. This body..."  
  
The PDA crackled to life, albeit only displaying static and shoving out distorted audio. A woman's voice, urgently ordering someone to get the hell out of dodge, and take some important data with them, straight to Bradford.  
  
"Vahlen," Adam muttered under his breath, looking over at the Central Officer, while the other three men simply looked at the cave ahead. Adam couldn't blame them for not being that concerned. They'd never met Vahlen, wouldn't recognize her if they saw her. Other than this mission, it was a safe bet they'd never would have had anything to do with her in their entire lives. There was more pertinent matters at hand, however- what data could she possibly be holding onto? Old XCOM records? Intel she'd collected after the war? Something else entirely? Nobody was sure, but all 5 were just about ready to find out.  
  
_"I had hoped to meet my predecessor under less extreme circumstances."_ Tygan interrupted.  _"Still, I have tracked her signal to an area not far ahead._ "  
  
"Right. Let's do this, team."  
  
Bradford pocketed the PDF, and motioned the team forward,  minding the gap as the small outcropping they landed on fell off into a dusty, sandy metal landing pad. It hadn't been used in a fair amount of time, considering the state of disarray, but... ADVENT would have been more thorough. They wouldn't have left bodies, let alone skeletal remains with sensitive data on them. Something happened inside this cave, that much was obvious, including the sight of the big loading bay doors leading to some sort of dimly lit chamber... and a pair of Vipers wielding strange, crossbow-like weapons.  
  
"Aren't those..." Declan started, looking over at Alexios, who was carrying a similar weapon himself.  
  
"What was this 'Vahlen' doing here, Central?" the Greek asked, quietly, lining up a shot on one of the Vipers.  
  
"I don't know, but we need to find out. Adam."

Adam raised his sniper rifle, taking aim at the second Viper. "Hit it on 3. 1. 2."  
  
With that, a loud burst of compressed air, followed by a loud bang from the sniper rifle, and the two Vipers were sent flailing back, one of them pinned to the wall by the bolt from the new weapon, while the other's brain matter was currently painting a small wall panel that was once upon a time a door control.  
  
"Well, that woke the neighborhood," Declan stated conservatively, breaking away from the group and headed towards the chamber past the now-dead Vipers, the rest of the squad trailing behind him.  
  
"Hopefully there isn't much further resistance. It's strange that it's just Vipers around here-"  
  
"And snakes. Look," Alexios interrupted the Central Officer, pointing at the small diamondback currently writhing under his boot.   
  
A loud hiss determinedly NOT from Alexios' new friend rang through the cavern, followed by a low, echoing chorus of hissing from further in the cave.  
  
"Oh, _bugger_ ," Adam muttered, diving behind a large set of canisters and looking up at the holographic displays that  provided the only light in the room. "What the bloody hell are these? A Berserker, a Viper, and... what even is that thing?"  
  
"Tygan's trying to upload Vahlen's logs that were on that PDA. Until they come through, we've got no idea what's going on," Bradford responded. "In cover, now!"  
  
Alexios set up behind a small window, patting HAV-C reassuringly as Declan took to the wall next to him, peeking just over the threshold into the cave itself.   
  
"Hey, Central! That there is a LOT of snakes!"  
  
"About to be  _none_ ," retorted Murph, who stood up next to Adam, propping the base of his rotary cannon on the canisters, aiming down the cave at the source of the noise. "Adam and I will keep an overwatch here- Central, you take Lex and Dec and move in, try to draw them into our line of fire. Adam, head to that door on the other side and get ready!"  
  
Adam nodded. Murphy was a soldier, like Adam himself, and he carried himself like one even in a confusing, intel-dark situation like this. No wonder Hitman Team spoke so highly of him. As he bolted for the other side, sliding behind a computer terminal and raising his rifle, he could already see Vipers crawling out of the walls. He'd finally noticed what was unusual about them, besides the obvious weaponry. They were *tiny*, and their scales looked... smooth. As if they were molting. As if they were...  
  
"Central! These snakes are tinkers!" Adam shouted over.  
  
"Say again?"  
  
"These Vipers aren't fully grown!"  
  
"Why the hell would they not be?" Declan asked, grabbing one of the axes on his back and clipping his shotgun to the mag strap on his belt.   
  
"I don't know, but they're still a threat. Let's clean 'em up, team." Bradford seemed unfazed by the revelation, shocking no one, and simply opened fire, with Alexios following suit behind him. Declan ran out into the corridor, disappearing from Adam's sight, although he could hear the sound of a heavy blade burying into flesh, followed by a shotgun blast, and the panicked rasp of dying Vipers. Murph's cannon roared to life just as Declan entered Adam's view, hoisting an axe over his head and flying at one of the Vipers on his side, burying the axe deep into the alien's skull. Adam fired a round, managing to fell a hostile that was attempting to flank the Ranger, while Declan himself, unable to free his axe from the skull of the Viper in time to face the next one, simply threw his spare axe like a tomahawk, impaling a Viper through the chest with a crunch of bone giving way under the weighted blade.   
  
"Jesus, they're comin' in hot!" Declan shouted, finally managing to dislodge the nearest axe before pulling out his shotgun and firing a blast just out of Adam's view. The firing was still hot on Murph's side, although Alexios and Bradford had already broken off, and Murph was starting to advance into the cave itself. It was probably a good time to move in, so Adam did, drawing his pistol and running forward, just in time to confront a gaggle of Vipers trying to slink through what appeared to be a makeshift research lab in the center of the cave. Adam fired his pistol at one, sending it flopping lifelessly to the side, while Declan gave another a shotgun blast that sent it crashing back through the window it was slinking out of. Alexios' bolts pinioned another to the wall, while Bradford, sword in hand, neatly decapitated one at a full sprint, before jumping into a flying boot to another, which he followed up by burying his blade in its head. The last Viper burst out from the doorway behind him, only to be lit up by the entire fireteam at once.  
  
And then it was completely silent in the cave.  
  
"... yeesh," Declan finally spoke up, walking over to his other axe, still embedded in the chest of the Viper he'd slain, making a grand show of stomping and kicking at the damn thing to dislodge it. Annoyed, Murph went to assist him, the two men jerking the blade out with a spray of greenish-yellow viscera. "Ah, fuck!"  
  
"Wuss."  
  
"Shut up, Murph, you're an outbacker, you prolly bathe in your own shit."  
  
Adam spun his pistol around his finger before holstering it, approaching a very frustrated Alexios and an equally worried Bradford. "What's going on?"  
  
"Tygan can't get the damn logs. There's some kind of interference coming from deep inside the cave. There's temperature distortions down there, too. Think, we're in the middle of the Sonora Desert, right?" Alexios explained, pointing at the LED screen on HAV-C. "Well, here's the thing. Part of the cave we're in now? It's naturally a bit colder due to the shade. About 85 degrees. About 20 yards in? Below  _fuckin'_ freezing. It's not a glitch, either. Tygan's picking it up too on the remote scan. Something's fucking with all of our systems in here."  
  
"Well, let me play the devil's advocate here. What if it really is that cold?" Bradford asked.  
  
"Then I don't know what sort of feat of scientific gymnastics had to occur to make that happen," replied Alexios, "and I'm not exactly thrilled to find out. We have no signs of those things in the atrium here. What if they're further down the cave?"  
  
"That would make sense. Cold storage. Maybe they're just cadavers in cold storage..."  
  
_"Central! I've managed to decode one of Vahlen's audio logs. I'm going to send the playback now._ "  
  
_"- this is truly astonishing! This specimen doesn't seem to require physical nourishment of any kind, but seems instead to feed off of... I'm not sure. When presented with prey, it will still attack them, and be sated after the kill, but it has yet to physically consume anything. This is also interesting in regards to their unique physiology- the specimen appears to be in some sort of half-space between solid and gas, yet not a liquid, apart from this bony armor making up part of its physiology. This armor has proven impervious to all but Subject Alpha's attempts to damage it, and even then, it's proven an even match for Subject Alpha when in close combat. I b- wait. Why is... Collins, get away from that-!"  
  
_ The assembled team turned to look at each other in unison, then further down the cave.  
  
"I'm not goin' down there," Declan stated, taking a few steps back.  
  
"Yes, you are," Adam replied, grabbing him by the arm.   
  
"I'm...  _goin' down there..._ "  
  
"Reload your weapons and stay on your toes. It sounds like whatever this thing is, it's a tough son of a bitch. If it's still here... we're gonna have a hell of a fight."  
  
_"Central! I'm picking up a signature matching Dr. Vahlen's own further into the cave, around the epicenter of the sub-zero pocket in the cave. Be advised- I'm detecting at least one life form moving rapidly around the area- too rapidly to be a human."_

 "Oh, lovely." Adam looked over at Bradford. "Well, Central?"  
  
"Follow me."  
  
Say what you may about Bradford, but if the man was gonna order you to your death, he was gonna march there with you.

* * *

 

By the time they reached what once was supposed to be some sort of enclosure, save for the fact all the glass was broken and the damn thing was covered from top to bottom in dead Vipers and  _ice_ , the team's nerves were about fried. And that was BEFORE they started hearing the hissing.  
  
"Well, it looks like the Viper's still here," Bradford whispered. "Nikos, Delacroix. Left side of the window. Adam, you and I will wait on the right. MacAuley, get ready to put a grenade in there."  
  
The Aussie maglocked his cannon to his back, grabbing his Grenade Launcher and cocking the contraption before taking a knee and bracing it. "Ready."  
  
"Let's go."   
  
Adam followed Bradford to their waiting point on the ledge, the two elder statesmen watching the icy hellscape. A single skeletal form lay in the middle of the small enclosure, holding what appeared to be a PDA.  
  
"Is that..." Bradford started.  
  
_"I'm unable to identify at this range."  
  
_ "Right... So, we have to go in there. Let's move. Murphy, see that small plateau, here? I want you on top of it."  
  
"Got it!" the Aussie replied, only to visibly flinch at the deafening sound of a loud, shrill shriek, and the sound of ice breaking under  _something_. "What the-"  
  
"Get in position!"  
  
Murphy scrambled to climb up the raised rocks as the rest of the team spread out around the wall of the enclosure, ducking behind stones in an attempt to conceal themselves from whatever was going on. All they could do now was observe as the hissing grew louder, and much closer to them.  
  
"If you see it... light it up."  
  
They saw it, alright. Specifically, Adam and company watched in awe as the Viper from the display was thrown sailing through the air, landing a bloody, battered mess a few yards ahead of the squad. Following right after it was a...  _mass_ of black in the vague shape of some sort of canine, but standing upright, like the mythical werewolf. It charged the fallen Viper, pinning it to the floor as it struggled to fire off bursts of icy air from its throat, freezing the arm of the thing assaulting it, before said thing shattered its own arm as if it were just an everyday routine. Sans one arm, it continued to hold down and tear at the Viper until it stopped its resistance... and then proceeded to look right at the squad, growling lowly before letting out a loud, piercing howl.  
  
"What the FUCK IS THAT!?" Declan shouted.  
  
"PUT A GRENADE ON IT! NOW!" Bradford ordered.  
  
A puff of smoke, and a frag grenade arced through the air, smacking directly into the face of the black beast, which proceeded to completely ignore the fact that it had just been slapped in the face with a grenade, and roared again directly at Murph, who seemed equally undeterred on the exterior (although Adam highly doubted the man wasn't about to piss himself.). Declan fired the whole tube of shells from his shotgun at it, obviously hitting, but nothing was really happening, the beast was only getting angrier, and turning its attention to Declan.   
  
"Keep hitting it while it's confused!" Bradford commanded, breaking off to the right to draw its attention, headed straight into the middle of the ice. He motioned to Alexios and Adam, and while the latter seemed to instinctively run towards the big beast before turning on his heel and running back towards Murph's perch, Adam wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. His eyes darted between Alex, the beast, the body in the center of the enclosure, the Viper attempting to slither awa-  
  
The Viper was still moving!?

* * *

 _Far from Sonora, Arizona_  
  
Remnant

 

Strange things happen on Remnant. Such is life. This was an established fact amongst the general population, and especially amongst huntsmen/huntresses in training such as Team JNPR.  
  
Seeing a random purple tear in the air in front of him was probably the second strangest thing Jaune had seen in his entire life. And he'd seen VERY strange things in his 16 years on Earth. It bears repeating, this was the second strangest thing on that very, very, very long list. Especially when he heard what sounded like gunfire, men screaming at each other, and a Grimm. He'd called a team huddle almost immediately after seeing this, leaving JNPR to examine the anomaly as a unit.  
  
"Can I-"  
  
"Absolutely not," interrupted Ren, stepping just between Nora and the purple thing for emphasis. Weird how those two were so in tune with each other.  
  
"You guys hear it too, right? The gunfire? And I'm pretty sure that's a Beowulf on the other end."  
  
Pyrrha nodded. "It seems like it. So, what should we do?"  
  
"We should touch it!"  
  
"Nora!"  
  
Jaune sighed. "We don't even really know what it is. For all we know it could be just like... I dunno, like, maybe like a recording? We can't interact with it, but we can listen to it?"  
  
"Then by the time we figure out where these people are, they could be dead. Nora-" Ren grabbed Nora's wrist out of midair, just short of her brushing her finger against the edge of the anomaly, which rippled slightly around her finger.   
  
"So, it's a tangible thing?" Jaune reached out himself, more towards the black center of the anomaly, which proceeded to spread open around his fist, revealing SOMETHING on the other side. A cave, covered in ice, and what appeared to be a Beowulf, which was now turning its head towards them. "And... it's two way, it's two way, two way!"  
  
_"What the fuck's goin' on over there!?"_ someone shouted.  
  
_"It sounds like someone's sayin' something!"_  
  
_"OI! DON'T COME IN HERE! THERE'S A BIG BLOODY WOLF-THING-"_  
  
"Alright, that seems to settle this then. Let's see what we can do." interrupted Pyrrha, attempting to push into the purple mist and promptly disappearing in a flash of light.  
  
"NOW can I touch it!?" Nora asked, indignant.  
  
Ren sighed aloud, shaking his head morosely. "I suppose we don't have much choice. Let's go."  
  
Jaune was the next one to go in, light flashing in his eyes as he suddenly felt...  _light_. Like he was made of air, before suddenly crashing back into a solid state in the middle of a bone-cold cave. The Beowolf was right in front of him, not too far from where it appeared to be from the other side of the purple thing. He heard it again, twice, the flashes of light at his back indicating that Nora and Ren made it through, before the purple light over his shoulder completely disappeared.  
  
"It closed!" Nora shouted, turning away from the very pertinent threat in front of them.  
  
"That's... not good."  
  
"Don't worry about it for now. Let's focus on what's in front of us!" Pyrrha turned to the group of men that must have been the source of the shouting earlier. "We're here to help!"  
  
"Crucified CHRIST, woman, what are you WEARING!?" one of the men, a tall blonde clad in black and a small stocking cap, shouted, pointing directly at Pyrrha with his free hand as he kept his pistol trained on the startled Beowolf.   
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
"Just shut up and kill that thing!" one of the men, a grizzled-looking old fellow with a sword on his back, ordered, and the other four men's attentions focused on the Beowolf. Evidently, he was the one in charge around here. "Bullets don't hurt it!"  
  
"This will!" Nora shouted gleefully, Manghild shifting into its grenade-launcher form in her hands as she took aim at the Beowolf.   
  
"Bloody FUCK THUNDER, Central, I want one of those!" a man in camouflage shouted. "Wait, where's the-"  
  
"Focus!"  
  
As Nora let a carpet barrage of grenades fly, the man in camouflage whipped a large minigun off of his back and began firing at the creature to divert its attention, the combined firepower from the two heavy weapons staggering the creature long enough for the man with a pistol to line up a shot with the rather large revolver. "Someone put another grenade on it!"  
  
"'nade out!" cried another one of the shooters, a man in stark white armor with a pair of hefty axes on his back, as he pitched a grenade like the world's deadliest baseball in the general direction of the Grimm, landing right beside the beast. The explosion did some damage, but this Beowolf was obviously a bit older and tougher than most- its armor wasn't even cracking under the punishment it was suffering.

"Hey, Pyrrha! I think we're gonna need to get closer!"  
  
"Right!"  
  
"Why the FUCK are you guys using swords and shields!?" Grenade Guy asked, seemingly ignorant to the hypocrisy inherent in his statement, as he had his hand one one of his huge axes.   
  
A man with what appeared to be an odd, sideways crossbow nodded to them, motioning for the little hovering robot next to him to fly at the Beowolf, letting out short arcs of electricity and causing the Grimm to swat after it, intent on bringing it down to the ground.   
  
"D!" the man shouted, and Grenade Guy- err, 'D', ran in, pulling one of his axes off his back and leaping into the air, burying the weapon into the armored head of the Beowolf, who responded by turning with its good arm and attempting to tear him open with its claws. His target was surprisingly nimble for a man his size- he leaned back, barely avoiding the claws as he drew the second axe and let out a war cry as he smashed a second, two-handed swing into the neck of the Grimm, a trail of black ichor flying alongside the blade.  
  
"That looked like it hurt! Keep it comin'!" the commander ordered, and D quickly dove out of the way of another strike, his axe sticking to his back with a loud  _click_ as he removed his shotgun from its place on his back, and began firing while backpedaling towards JNPR. Well, if that wasn't a call to action...  
  
"Hit it!" D shouted, and Pyrrha immediately complied, sending her shield flying into the face of the Beowolf, dislodging the axe stuck there as the Grimm howled, shaking its head and resuming its pursuit of D. While the aforementioned soldier turned on his heels, drawing his axe with one hand while holding his shotgun in the other, Jaune went in, sliding to a stop with his shield up as the Grimm took a wild swing downward, slamming harmlessly into Jaune's shield and cracking the ice below their feet. D jumped in once more, firing a single shot from his shotgun and giving a wide, spinning slash with his axe, before dropping to the ground to avoid being sent flying by the Grimm's backhand. Taking the opportunity presented by the creature turning, Jaune rose to his feet, and plunged Crocea Mors into its back, the Grimm's evil essence quickly starting to ebb as it dropped to its knees, and fell to the cave floor in front of D, who proceeded to drop his head, laying on the icy cave floor.  
  
"Hoooooly capital f-u-c-k, weirdos," he half-gasped, grasping for his axe and placing it against his chest. "Oh, lord, I'm dead. I'm somehow dead and all y'all beat me to hell. Or worse yet, you're part of my punishment."  
  
"Funny," Camo muttered, looking over the kids. "The fuck are you doin' 'ere?"  
  
"We were in the Emerald Forest on a mission, and we saw that purple cloud thing just sitting there. We heard gunfire, and figured we should help you guys out," Jaune explained, only to be met with raised eyebrows, and the man shifting his gun towards them.   
  
"Hey, hey, hey, Murph- they're human."  
  
"Stupid humans. Who the fuck comes into a combat zone wearing a keyhole top or god forbid, a bloody corset?" Pistol Guy asked, pointing firmly at Pyrrha. "And what the fuck even are those weapons- that shield mess, the fuck was that?"  
  
"I literally do not give a SINGLE shit, because that was some SICK business right there," D interjected, kipping up to his feet with axes in hand. He holstered the ungainly weapons before grabbing his shotgun off the ground. "Y'all rude as hell, not even giving these people an introduction before you start pointing guns at them. I'm Private Declan Jean-Robillard Delacroix, but you can just call me Declan."  
  
Declan pointed at Pistol Man. "The crumpet-eating assclown with the fixation on your combat attire, or lack thereof, is Sergeant Adam Jones."  
  
"Fuck off."  
  
"No, you."  
  
Camo raised a hand, sighing. "Right. I'm Captain Murph MacAuley. The boss man over there is Central Officer John Bradford. Lad over there with the drone and the bolt gun? That's Corporal Alexios Nikos."  
  
"Pardon?" Pyrrha looked over at 'Alexios.'   
  
"What, you never met a Greek?"  
  
"No, that's just... an odd coincidence."  
  
"What's an odd coincidence?"  
  
"Well," Jaune spoke up, stepping a bit forward, "she's Pyrrha Nikos."  
  
The soldiers all looked at Alexios, with Murph making a slight jerk of the head towards Pyrrha.  
  
"Completely coincidence. It's not that uncommon of a last name. You know, 'Nike'? Goddess of Victory? Nikas, Nikos, Nikones, et cetera, et cetera..." Alexios explained, before turning back to Pyrrha herself. "Santorini. You?"  
  
"I have no idea what you're referring to."  
  
"You're not from Greece?"  
  
"I... don't know what that is."  
  
The man raised an eyebrow, cutting his eyes at Murph, who simply shrugged. "What abouts the rest of ya?" Murph asked.   
  
"I'm Jaune Arc."  
  
"Hi! I'm Nora! And this here is Ren."  
  
"Greetings."  
  
Bradford grabbed something off of a frozen corpse in the center of the room, holding a hand to some sort of earpiece before looking over at the team. "It's not Vahlen!"  
  
"Shite!" Adam cursed, punching his thigh. "Now what?"  
  
"I wanna find out where that fuckin' corpse went. Look," Declan called, pointing at the now-empty space that the Beowolf occupied. "Gone! Without a trace!"  
  
"Grimm dissipate upon death," Ren explained, looking over at the Central Officer. "Your men don't already know this?"  
  
"The hell's a 'Grimm', son?"  
  
JNPR and the team of soldiers looked at each other in silence for what Jaune could have sworn was an eternity and a half. This was... strange. Portal in the middle of the woods takes them to a random ice cave, with a bunch of guys using guns and primitive melee weapons against a Grimm, which they don't even know what it is. None of them had very normal names, none of them looked normal- all of them had to at least be in their late twenties to early thirties, on top of the drab palettes and general seeming lack of... Aura. Were they in some kind of foreign country or something?  
  
"Hey, uh, where exactly are we?" Jaune put voice to one of the many questions in his head.  
  
"The middle of the Sonora Desert, in Arizona. United States. "  
  
"The where, the what, and the United Huh?" Nora piped in.  
  
"Okay, let's try this from a different angle of approach. Where are  _you_ from?"  
  
"I'm from Vale," Jaune answered.  
  
"The three of us are from Mistral," Pyrrha added, pointing behind her at Ren and Nora.  
  
"Never heard of either of those places. You guys?" Declan asked.  
  
"No bells ringing here," Alexios replied.  
  
"Nothing. We'll figure this out, but, until we do, you four are coming with us," Bradford stated, which caused Adam and Murphy's heads to snap towards him.  
  
"John, what the-"  
  
"Adam, these kids have no idea where they are, and are currently in the middle of the desert. We can't just let them sit here. We're going to bring them back to the Avenger and find a way to get them back home, but until then, they're our guests. We'll make sure they're fed and taken care of at Grace's Peak. Clear?"  
  
"... not gonna take a 'no' on this?"   
  
"That's a negative."  
  
Adam rolled his eyes with a loud, heaving sigh. "Wonderful. Alien whips out a psionic portal, and out comes the first bloody babysitting job I've had in 30 years. I love my job. Love it, love it, love it."   
  
Murphy harrumphed before slinging his gear back over his shoulder. "Kids can have our seats, Central."  
  
"Hey, hey, hey, I did NOT volunteer to stand up after this-" Declan started, striding over to Bradford with fire in his eyes.

* * *

_Journal Update_

 

_As my American 'friend' would put it, what in the jumping jungle monkey FUCK just happened?  
  
We go into a bloody cave, full of Vipers barely up to my neck, the cave's bloody freezing cold and full of dead bodies and ice, and then this 'Grimm' or whatever it's bloody called just takes a SHIT all over one of Vahlen's apparent 'test subjects,' damn near kills the thing before turnin' on us. If it wasn’t for that bunch of kids we’d be dead. A bunch of KIDS. I don’t know how in fuck all we're supposed to deal with this mess. We don't have the facilities or the manpower to babysit a bunch of kids...  
  
...unusually large and semi-anachronistic armaments nonwithstanding..._

_Whatever the case, I'll have to cut this entry short. There's a little ginger monkey pretty much jumping over my shoulder trying to see what I'm writing. Will finish my recap of the day's events tonight.  
  
Note to self: lock the fucking door. _


	2. Bradford's Bed and Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever been stuck in a really strange place with a bunch of strangers, no way out, and no idea what to do?
> 
> That's pretty whack.

The trip on the aircraft was relatively... quiet. It was obvious no one other than Nora was huge on the idea of talking, and she was silently rebuffed by the rest of the military guys on board. It didn't take long- maybe 3 hours of flight to get where they were going. When they landed, Bradford motioned to them, then pointed his thumb back out the door. "The Commander will be waiting on the deck with your temporary arrangements. Once that all gets settled, and you pack your things away, get changed, find your way to the bar. I'll get you something to drink, something to eat, and we can see about where we need to go to get you home."  
  
"Thank you, uh, Mr. Central Officer. Sir." Jaune had never really dealt with the military, so this was kind of nerve-wracking. Sure, with his Aura up, the bullets wouldn't hit that hard, but yeesh. These guys took stuff really, really seriously.  
  
"Central will do, Jaune."  
  
With that, the loading gate for the ship opened, and standing not five feet away in the shade was a woman in faded, beat-up khakis and a shirt with a strange, bright blue pentagon on the front. Her hair was jet black with a few streaks of grey, her face was slightly creased, and she overall looked like a woman who wasn't so much old as simply worn out by time. Flanking her were two men, one of whom had at least half a foot on Jaune, and the other who stood about at Pyrrha's level. The taller was wearing a huge orange vest, with no sleeves, revealing massive, tattooed arms that could crush Jaune's head like a cranberry. Any attempt at looking at his face were obscured by his large, completely closed helmet. He seemed to be carrying a cannon much like Murph's. The other man was still quite striking, though not as much so- his hair was a dirty blond, slicked back heavily and slightly wet, with a thick beard that was slightly darker than the hair. He wore a pure, royal blue suit of body armor, and carried an equally blue assault rifle. His eyes met Jaune's, and he nodded. Jaune nodded back.  
  
"You were expecting trouble, Commander?" Bradford asked as he motioned for the kids to head off first.   
  
"Course not, Central. Just gotta take precautions. Hope the ride wasn't too bad for ya, kids."  
  
"We're just fine, thank you," Pyrrha spoke up, stepping off the ship first. As she started to walk, so too did the large man in orange, who stepped in between her and the woman who'd spoken.

"Your weapons, si'l te plait." His voice was somewhat garbled, with a staticky edge- he must have a microphone in his helmet.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"I said, your weapons, madame. Until we get you off of here, we're holding on to them."  
  
"Sir, I don't believe that's necessary."  
  
"With all due respect, madame, I don't give a shit."  
  
"Heeeeeeeeeew! Big Sexy's got a chip on his shoulder today!" Declan called from back in the aircraft, while Jaune watched, his whole body tensing up at the thought of a fight already breaking out. 

"Phillipe," the Commander chided him, "try explaining that in a way that doesn't make you look like a prick."  
  
The other man stepped forward. "Listen, miss, we don't know anything about you or where you're from. Until we get some solid information and some proof that you're not working against us, we'll see about you keeping your weapons. Right now, we just need to be safe. We're gonna take care of them, even have our tech and engineering folks give them a touchup."  
  
"Oui," Phillipe agreed.   
  
Pyrrha nodded, handing the weapons to the other man, who gave her a wan smile and looked over to the others. "You guys too. Sorry."  
  
"It's fine," Jaune replied, stepping off the ship and taking Crocea Mors off his hip. "We won't be causing you guys too much trouble... hopefully."  
  
"Man, I do NOT like the sound of that." That managed to get a small chuckle out of the man as he took the sword and shielth combo and locked it to his back. "Holy SHIT this is heavy. How do you walk around with this?"  
  
"It takes getting used to."  
  
"Fuck me."  
  
Nora was reluctant to part with Manghild, but Ren managed to coax her into handing Phillipe the hammer, and Ren followed by turning in Stormflower, warning Phillipe to mind the bayonets. The big guy proceeded to just slap them in his holsters anyway, cutting said holsters open at the hip, which led to a chuckle from the Commander and the man in blue.  
  
"Thanks, kids. Sorry, but the men wouldn't be comfortable knowing complete strangers are running around with a bunch of guns and knives. The big jerk is Sergeant Phillipe Richard, and the gentleman to my left is Private Roderick Braddock. I'm Commander Grace Cheng. Welcome to the Avenger, our little home in the sky. Try not to get sick."  
  
"Wait, the sky!?" Jaune yelped.  
  
"Oh,  _no_ ," Roderick muttered. "Should we go ahead and get the bucket?"  
  
"We're not taking off till tonight, Rod. He'll be fine for now."  
  
"Right, ma'am."  
  
"Anyway, yeah, this is an airship with very limited space. We have a cleared space on the airship for troops and personnel, thanks to conversions we've done. There's room for 50 beds total- 50 for the troops, 25 for the crew, and we've only got 30 men and women on call. Nevertheless, we want you supervised for a little while, so for now we're gonna have you rooming with some of our regulars. You'll be meeting them in the bar once you change. Go ahead and head to the barracks, Rod and Phil will lead you there. Talk to Sophie Thomas, the girl in the red, she'll help you out. Then, meet us in the bar."  
  
The Commander then looked over the kids' shoulders. "Congratulations on the promotion, Corporal Delacroix!"  
  
"Aw, FUCK YEAH! Fuck you, Murph!"  
  
Murph groaned aloud, holding his head in his palms.   
  
"Anyways, I got to do debriefs with the team. Go ahead." The Commander waved them along, giving a demure, sort of whitewashed smile.  
  
"Thank you!" Nora opened her arms for a hug, taking a few steps towards Commander Cheng's escort, only for Phillipe to throw out his arm, a long baton extending from within his huge fist.  
  
"No touching."

 

* * *

In the bar, there was almost as much tension as there was outside, only for different reasons.  
  
"I'm TELLING you, uce. They're aliens. No way they came out of that portal and they're not aliens. My guy in the Montana wilds? He's seen this sort of shit, dude. This is legit!"  
  
"Oh my GOD, shut UP, Jack! Nobody gives a shit about your tinfoil hat bullshit, man!"  
  
"Hey, hey, hey!"   
  
Three men sat at the bar, a row of empty seats between the paranoid Sergeant Jack Sagole and the good-natured peacemaker Private Jeremy Hall. Standing up in the center of the room was a very, VERY irritated Engineer, Junior Grade Dick McCullen. The portly engineer had come to get a drink, and found out that Jack and Jeremy had been assigned to greet some 'civilians' that came in under suspicious circumstances involving a psionic portal. Jack's ever-growing, colorful array of conspiracy theories, of course, had an explanation for this strange phenomena, and as usual, he was blabbing to everyone about it. Jerry could take it in stride.   
  
Dick could not.  
  
"I'm telling you, bro-"  
  
"For the love of FUCK, Jack, I don't care!"  
  
"Dick, cool it. Jack, bruh, it might be smart to just drop it, especially when the kids get here. Adam's definitely been through this with them." Jerry tried to raise his hands, using his usual 'trust me I'm a doctor' tone of voice- it wasn't working too well.  
  
"Fu-u-uck that dude, man. You know he HAD to be doing some shady shit back in his day. Look at the dude, man. He looks like some kinda spook."  
  
"He was in Old X-COM, with Bradford and the Commander, so show some respect, you fuckin' nutjob."  
  
"Ah, get your Grey Goose and get out of my face, lardass."

"Head case!"  
  
"Land whale!"  
  
"Psycho!"  
  
"You're an ice-cream binging, bedsheet stealing, toilet clogging, dead-sleeping obeast, and you smell like year old cheddar cheese and expired fish."  
  
"You're a dope-smoking, light-busting, computer-bricking, brain-dead maniac and you look like the spawn of a hobo in a three way with The Rock and a Great Dane!"  
  
"You take that back, you bougie son of a-"  
  
"What the fuck is going on here?" Roderick asked from the doorway, taking off his armored top and dropping it on one of the tables in the bar, watching the engineer and the gunner going back and forth at each other like two rabid dogs. The room fell silent at the sudden intrusion by the former gridiron badass, leading the two parties to immediately point at each other. "Oh, fuck no, don't start that shit with me. I'm just here to see which of those kids I'm stuck babysitting."  
  
"Aw, come on, don't look at it that way, Rod. Hearts and minds, man," Jerry smiled, waving over Roderick to come sit next to him, which the burlier Private did.  
  
"Jerry, you realize these kids showed up wearing what basically amounts to either cosplay or their fucking underwear, toting guns that turned into hammers and a shield that turned into a fucking samurai sword sheath or something, out of a portal in the middle of thin air, in a cave. I shit you not, there's one rocking double D's and she's wearing a CORSET, a skirt that BARELY comes up to her thighs, and LITERAL metal heels! IN A COMBAT ZONE. I'm pretty sure this isn't real, and I'm just in some weird fever dream, and I'm gonna wake up in 2018 and there's no aliens, no invasion, and that dumb Howard The Alien bullshit is gonna be popular again, and then I'll be able to tell my wife that she can go jock on Brad Temple's dick again, because FUCK if I didn't waste seven years of my life."  
  
"Man, fuck the fuckin' ADVENT, man," Jack contributed uninvited, slamming back a bottle of Union Jack. "And fuck these new aliens too."  
  
"Please, Jerry, please, please, please, tell me, for the love of Mother Mary and the Lord Jesus Christ, that Sagole isn't part of the welcoming committee. Tell me that, Jerry. Make me the happiest man on Earth, I will go back into the city center just so I can annul my marriage and give you my fucking soul." Roderick begged. Jerry only shrugged with a weak, nervous smile.  
  
"Oh, no, no, no, no, nooooo. Phillipe's already tried his usual shtick with them, Adam's been harassing them on the ride over, and now this shit. Who's the other person? There's supposed to be four. Dick?"  
  
"I don't even know what you're on about, Roddy."  
  
"Who is it, Jerry?" Rod asked again.  
  
"I think it's Declan or Sophie. I'unno."  
  
"Thank  _Christ_. "  
  
"Phillipe?" Dick interrupted. "Phillipe Richard?"  
  
"Eeeyup."  
  
"That dude's an asshole."  
  
"He spent ten years in a maximum security prison in the Alps, I'd be surprised if he wasn't a homicidal schizo after that shit."  
  
"You know, that makes me wonder, why do we always get the nutjobs, the criminals, or famous people?"  
  
"Hey, I'm not famous, or crazy, and my record's clean," Jerry spoke up.  
  
"Jerry, you're an angel, too good for this sinful earth, you're the exception. As for everyone else, I don't even know, dude. I think maybe four or five guys here have had actual military training. I'm not one of them." Roderick stuck out one arm, tucked the other in, and leaned to the side. "Here I am, former Heisman Trophy winner, 2nd Round Draft Pick in the NFL, and now I'm living out of a floating alien helicopter and shooting the people who literally own the NFL now. Don't we have other famous guys?"  
  
"Declan was in a one-hit-wonder band, Quaid was a preacher, I think Art was an MP in Canada, Wolf Mother did porn-"  
  
"WHAT!?"  
  
"I shit you not, she has a porno out there."  
  
"You're fucking pulling my leg."  
  
"I am not pulling your leg, but you might be pulling your third leg in about an hour out of curiosity."  
  
"You fat, disgusting little man," Jack sniped, throwing his beer bottle at Dick's head, and missing by a long shot. "Fuck!"  
  
"Next time I'm socking you in the jaw you fucking basehead!"  
  
"Come at me, big boy, I'll cut you so deep you turn into a gravy fountain!"  
  
A loud, shrill whistle pierced the argument like a hot knife. "What is UP, you reprobates?" shouted Declan as he sauntered into the room, throwing himself onto a stool at the bar. "I'll tell you what, I've seen some wild shit in my life, but a bunch of teenagers literally flying out of a portal in the middle of a cave is some new age shit. I coulda swore I was high for ten seconds, because I don't know HOW to explain that shit. Jack, what's the latest in your series of bad ideas?"  
  
"Oh, Strat, don't you FUCKING let him start!" Roderick protested, glaring as the axeman let out a barking laugh at Roderick's expense.  
  
“Man, when they prove me right, you’ll all come crying to me! I was right about the invasion, I’ll be right about this too!” Jack whined, taking the opportunity to present Declan with an idea of what he should do next via sign language.

”Put them fingers down before I break ‘em, hoss.” Declan sat next to Jerry, raising his fist, which the other man rapped the back of with his own. “So, you too?”

“Yep. I think it’s me, you, Jack, and Rod.”

”I’m not rooming with em, I’m just suspicious! I know the Elders wanna shut me up, I can’t just let them come in without them knowing I’m onto them!”

”Jerry, I want to kill him. Can I kill him?” Rod pressed his hands together, resting his forehead on them and letting out an anguished groan. 

“No can do. Let’s just be be glad they’re not in a room with him.” Jerry looked over the bar into one of the multiple coolers lying around the floor and grabbed a can of beer, tossing it to Declan, who scoffed at the meager offering.

”Get this fucking Pabst hippie bullshit out of my boat, Jerry!”

”I don’t drink, go complain to the Boss Lady. She’s not in a good mood, though, right now. At least from what I heard.”

”Why?” Roderick perked up, apprehensive.

“Remember how I said I didn’t know you  were rooming with the kids? You never let me finish. I didn’t know that you and Declan were.”

”Then who the fuck is number four?”

”I’m supposed to be bunking with ‘Nora’, and ‘Ren’ is supposed to be bunking with *freakin’* Wade.”

Roderick let out a massive guffaw, doubling over in laughter as he attempted to comprehend how the resident shithead stoner got an important assignment like that.

”Supposedly I’m rooming with ‘Pyrrha’. The one with ridiculously revealing clothes,” Roderick contributed.

”And I’m stuck with Jean. Wait a fuckin’... what the fuck? J-a-u-n-e. Who the hell names their kid ‘yellow’?”

”Some Portland hipster with way too much ‘creative energy’, I bet,” Jerry contributed.

”Jerry, aren’t you FROM Portland?” Declan jibed, giving the man a smug smirk and pointing his finger in accusation. 

“I’m from MICHIGAN."

”Then who the hell is from Portland?”

”I think Wolf Mother. Maybe Root?” 

“Nah, Root’s from... no, maybe it’s Root. Rod, where you from?”

“Aurora.”

”Huh. Never woulda guessed.”

3 of the PDAs in the room buzzed, two at once, followed by the other in short order.

 

_< J. Hall, R. Braddock> >G. MacAuley<_

_Re: Babysitting_

_Look sharp._

_-Murph_

 

_< D. Delacroix> >S. Thomas<_

_Subj: Good luck, fuckboy_

_Hey, arse-face. Apparently they’re bunking with our fireteams. Can’t want to see how Adam reacts to that news. If you wanna make a suicide pact, make sure to pass this along to Jack- not that he’ll be any better than Adam._

 

“Well, fuck,” Declan mumbled.

“What is it, Declan?”

“Hey, Jerry, Rod- it’s girls night in Hitman’s dorm, evidently.”

“You’re putting two teenage girls in a den of chads- and Jerry.” 

“Anyone who unironically uses that word should be shot,” Jerry protested, feeling a bit called out. “Besides, I saw the feed. They could beat all of us up, probably.”

“That there, Jerry, that’s a fine-ass joke. Now look presentable. Jack, fuck off.” Rod sent the man in question a bird, which Jack responded to in kind.

“Fuck you too, sweetie!” The Samoan-American stood up, skulking out of the room in the direction the kids would likely be coming from.

“I’ll go too, see you guys around.” McCullen followed, headed the opposite way from the conspiracy nut, towards Shen’s personal office. With them gone, the 4-man welcoming committee got to work cleaning up the bar.

“Hey, we should give them some water. Strat, you mind taking point on that?” Jerry called over, busying himself collecting bottles and cans.

“Ugandan tap water?” Declan asked.

“We still have that fucking poison!? Fuck no!” Roderick shouted back. “And where the hell is Wade?”

“Probably hotboxing. I don’t know how Assassin puts up with him. Just get some of the bottled water out of the fridge, Dec.”

“Aight, got it. Any of these kids of age?”

“Ask yourself that question again and see how stupid it sounds.”

“Shut up, Rod, we’re in our thirties, everyone is a kid to us now.”

“That’s not how it works, and I’m 24,” Jerry replied, chucking glasses into the sink just as footsteps became audible in the hall. His hand absently knocked a fork off the bar, which proceeded to land face up in the small rubber mat, sticking ramrod straight, to Declan’s amusement.

“Behold, a sign from the kitchen gods! Don’t pick it up, it’s bad mojo.”

“Fuck mojo, one of the- yo, what the fuck!?” Rod jumped back, bumping into the ranger and causing him to drop the bottles in his hands.

“What? Wha-at is the fork doing right now?”

Jerry looked over at the fork from over the bar, eyes widening at the fact that it was currently bent at a 90 degree angle, and bending further. “That the kitchen gods too, Declan?”

“I’m not really jokin’ about this-“

A cascade of shouting came from down the hall, with a few voices being audible above the others.

_“I’m sorry!”_

_“What the HELL did you just do!?”_

_“I don’t think she did anything, Adam-“_

_“Nonono, he’s right, my Aura is off, and my Semblance seems to be activating involuntarily. I’m sorry, I’ll fix it!”_

_“The hell is she on about- okay, you know what, I’m just gonna shoot you now before you kill us all.”_

_“DO IT AND I BREAK YOUR LEGS!”_

_“I’LL BITE OFF YOUR NOSE AND EAT IT, ALIEN FREAK!”_

_“Nora!”_

_“Jack!”_

_“What the hell is going on here?”_

_“Central, I can-“_

_“Enough with the harassment, get out of their way, NOW. We’ll fix the wall panel.”_

_“Didn’t you see her-"_

_“I said, that’s enough. Move it, Captain.”_

Declan’s mouth formed a wide ‘o’, the Ranger looking over at the others as he slowly pointed out the door. 

“Declan. Don’t. Say. Anything,” Jerry warned sternly.

“I’m gonna annoy the shit out of him about that later.”

“Strat, I will break your twig of a spine over my knee SO goddamn fast.” Roderick grabbed the water bottles, glaring at his ‘comrade’. “Not a great time. Also, did the fork stop bending?”

“Sure did,” Jerry noted, walking around the bar and grabbing the utensil. “Jeez, I dunno what that was.”

The footsteps in the hall resumed, much faster this time, as a familiar face rounded the corner- Private Sophie Thomas, the ginger Englishwoman from Menace Team was motioning along what must be the four charges, looking a bit frazzled. 

“So sorry about that, really, Adam and Jack have just been through a lot lately, and they’re scared tha- Oh, Declan! Ahahaha~ Yes, everything is absolutely shite. Anyways, you kids have a good evening while I figure out what we’re gonna do about your living arrangements! Ta-ta!”

Sophie went to bolt, but stopped when she saw the fork, looking up at Jerry with an expression of confusion. “Jeremy, have you been working out?”

Jerry’s cheeks went a shade red and he shrugged. “I, uh... maybe a little?”

Sophie gave a slight, barely audible yelp before running for the hills again.

“So, should someone...” came a voice from the hall. Male. Kinda strained.

“She looked very busy, Jaune,” came another male voice, far more relaxed. “She must be helping arrange our living situation, as well.”

“She seemed nice-“

Sure enough, two of the kids, one tall, muscular redhead- ‘crimson’ was a more apt descriptor- in sweatpants and an Adidas shirt, the other an even taller blonde boy with unusually blue eyes, golden blonde hair, and to Declan’s barely concealed laughter-

“PFFFFFFFFFFF he’s wearing JORTS!” whimpered Declan, holding one hand over his mouth. “Fuggin’ Jorts! They’re so tiny!”

“Uh... I think he’s my size, I got a spare change of pants. Hey, you! What’s your name?” Roddy asked.

“I-I’m Jaune.”

“I’ll give you my spare fatigue pants, and we can burn those.”

“I’m not really opposed to that idea. S-sir!”

Declan continued to giggle, whereas the girl looked over at the fork.

“Oh, no! I’ll fix that for you! I’m so sorry if I interrupted your meal!”

Raising her hand, a blackish-red cloud of energy crackled around her hand, and the fork slowly bent forward in Jerry’s hand, drawing the awestruck gaze of all three soldiers as the fork went upright once more. Once all was right, they looked back at the crimsonette, slowly, one after the other.

“Did you actually just-“ Jerry started, unable to finish his sentence due to just how UNBELIEVABLY RIDICULOUS this was.

“I used my Semblance to straighten it out... you don’t know what that means, do you?”

“That was BADASS!” Declan shouted suddenly, hopping up excitedly before making finger guns at the evident metal-bender. “Pyrrha, right? Do that shit again!”

“Err, I don’t know if-“

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Roderick interrupted. “Sit down. I think we need to have a talk.”

* * *

 Jaune sat nervously, sipping his water as Roderick stared at Pyrrha, the other men on the other sides of the big bodyguard (or at least that's what Jaune thought he was) scrutinizing them as well.  
  
"So," Roderick began, pointing particularly at Ren. "All of you can do that?"  
  
"We all have different Semblances. Pyrrha's is control of metal. Mine is to read and mask the emotions of those around me. Nora's is to absorb the energy from electricity."  
  
"What about Jaune?"  
  
"He..."  
  
"I don't have one," Jaune admitted. "It's kind of a sore spot, but, yeah. I haven't unlocked mine."  
  
"Huh. So it's an ability you get with time, not when you're born. That tells us something. And y'all are human?"  
  
"Yep!" Nora agreed.  
  
"Weird that we wouldn't have any abilities like that. Do you guys even know what planet we're on?"  
  
"Not... particularly. Is this Remnant?" Pyrrha asked.  
  
"So they are aliens! Jack is gonna be PISSED!" Declan pumped his fist, snickering as Jerry gave him a stiff look.   
  
"I guess to you, we must seem like aliens." Ren nodded at Declan's statement, before looking back at Roderick. "But we mean you no harm. We would have attacked you if we did."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I can vouch for that," Declan agreed. "They were helpin' us kill that thing in the cave. You called it a Grimm?"  
  
"Yes. A Beowolf, to be specific."  
  
"Huh. And you've fought these things before?"  
  
"Yes. As a matter of fact, we're training to do it for a career."  
  
"So where you're from, these things are a problem?"  
  
"A BIG one," Jaune corrected. "There are tons of combat schools, not to mention the four big academies. We go-WENT to Beacon, before we somehow ended up here."  
  
"So, question time," Jerry spoke up. "Hi, I'm Jerry by the way. Nora, you're my bunkmate, apparently."  
  
"Shweet!"  
  
"Anyway, question- you got here from a portal, right?"  
  
"I believe that's an apt summary," Pyrrha agreed.  
  
"The portal only showed up when the Viper King started moving, right?" Jerry asked, looking over at Declan.  
  
"Oh, so that's what we're calling it? Yup. It was almost like it..."  
  
"Summoned it!" Jerry and Declan suddenly exclaimed, the revelation seemingly coming to them simultaneously.  
  
"Awesome, so if we can find the thing again, we can probably send you back!" Jerry snapped his fingers. "Man, that's awesome! Since he was so badly wounded, it probably won't be too hard to force him to try and bail out!"  
  
"That seems like a great idea, Mr. Jerry," Pyrrha agreed, before being met with a raised hand from Jerry.  
  
"Just Jerry. I'm probably not much older than you four. How old are you, anyway?"  
  
"16," Jaune answered.  
  
Pyrrha looked a bit taken aback by that, but composed herself. "17.”  
  
"A LADY NEVER TELLS!" Nora shouted, putting her fists to her hips.  
  
"17 for me, 16 for Nora," Ren explained, frowning at Nora's antics.  
  
"I'm fixin' to card the two of you," Declan said, pointing at Jaune and Pyrrha. "You're too tall, and you're... too tall."  
  
"Nice save," Roderick drawled sarcastically. "Don't give us your actual ID."  
  
Jaune slowly slid his wallet back into the pocket of his pants. "So... what now?"  
  
"You're bunking with us, apparently. Pyrrha and Nora are goin' with me and Jerry, and you'll be going with Declan."  
  
Declan threw up horns and winked at Jaune, who couldn't help but feel a little bit nervous.  
  
"Is there anyone else with us?" Pyrrha asked. "In the rooms, I mean."  
  
"Yep. Alexios Nikos rooms with us, you've met him," Jerry explained. "Jaune will be with Sophie... Adam, and...  _Jack_."  
  
"May I request a change of rooms, please?" Pyrrha asked, drawing a look from Ren, who made a subtle 'uh-oh' gesture to Jerry.  
  
"I'd have to talk to Menace about that," Roderick replied.  
  
"Then I suppose you'll let Jaune bunk with me instead," Pyrrha replied, insistently.  
  
"Um... I'm cool with that," Jerry agreed, biting his lower lip and looking over at Roderick with a glare that Jaune could only interpret as 'say yes or I will punch you in the crotch'.

Roderick nodded slowly. “Yeeeaaaah. Sounds reasonable. Shit, maybe even Ren can board with us, I don’t know. Let’s not worry about that right this second. When’s the last time you kids had anything to eat?”

”About breakfast time, so... 2 hours ago?” Pyrrha replied.

”Hey, Pyrrha. It’s 5:00 PM.”

”They probably are from a different planet so, yeah, no shit their time is gonna be wrong as fuck, Peace!”

”Peace?” Nora asked.

”Nickname. Around here, we go by nicknames when on assignment to avoid being called out individually by the suckers comin’ after us. I’m Stratosphere, Jerry is Peacekeeper, Adam is Invincible, et cetera et cetera... Roderick, you don’t have one.”

”Well I haven’t gone on a combat assignment yet, so I can’t imagine I’d need one,” the bigger man replied. “Besides the point, are you kids hungry? The settlement we’re camping near has plenty of stuff, mostly salvaged or hidden out livestock that the ADVENT search teams didn’t cull. There are a few wild animals left, but not many, so expect a LOT of fruit and veggies.”

”That’s perfectly fine. I could definitely go for something small right about now. Are any of you hungry?” Pyrrha looked over at Nora expectantly, said ginger bouncing up and down excitedly. 

“She’s always hungry,” Jaune explained. “I could go for a little something.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” Ren agreed. 

“Alright then, llllet’s get on it!” Declan declared, hopping up from his seat, already strolling out of the door, with an amused Roderick following him with his eyes. 

“You’ll like him, Nora. He’s always hungry, too. Then again, running around and throwing those axes all day probably works up an appetite.”

”He better not eat it all before I get there, I’m on a team full of thieving pigs!” Nora shouted as she ran after him, dragging Jerry by the arm. “Come on, Jerry Peace, we’re gonna break his legs!”

”Wait, that sounds a little excessive!-“

As the protesting Jerry was forced along, along the remaining members of JNPR couldn’t help but let out quiet chuckles as they watched the team’s resident ball of energy do her thing. Roderick seemed equally entertained, looking over at the three kids. Unlike many of the people he’d seen so far, Jaune couldn’t help but notice that his eyes weren’t suspicious. Narrow, almost sky-blue eyes seemed less dangerous and more concerned, less like a soldier scanning for threats than a cop trying to help a kid find his mom in the mall. The lack of hostility was a nice change. 

“So, you wanna head out there? Resources aren’t unlimited, and this ship has a lot of mouths to feed.”

”Right on. Lead the way,” Jaune agreed. 

* * *

 

_Meanwhile_

_Far away from the Avenger_

_Vale City_

 

 

”Who are you?”

The question was certainly not one Junior Xiong heard often. While he wasn’t exactly the king of the Valean underworld, he was its eyes, ears, and to many, its face. The Club, as it was so conservatively named, was a hub for activities both legitimate and... less so. If you lived in Vale, you knew his face, and if somebody asked him to find you, he could know yours within a day. He considered himself somewhat important.

So, this smarmy little emo bitch in a bunch of furs and rags asking him who he was was rather... unusual.

”The fuckin’ tooth fairy,” Junior answered. “Are you even old enough to be here?”

An ID, obviously fake, stating the holder of it as 24-year old “Cinder Ella”. That name was about as stupid as he’d ever heard in his life. Had to admit, the guy who made it was good, but he hadn’t met Junior. Junior had the best guys, come to think of it, this ID looked...

”Who gave you this?”

”Roman Torchwick. He told me to come here and find a ‘Junior’. Now, Mr. Fairy, if you would be so kind as to point me in his direction...”

The girl (woman?) gave him a smug smirk, and Junior couldn’t help but suddenly feel very, very afraid of that little look. Something about this broad felt... off.

”You’ve found him. What does Candle Neck want this time?”

”Well, you see, Junior, it isn’t about what Roman wants... it’s about what I want. And I want you to help me help my people. You see, something strange happened recently, and one of my men seems to know quite a bit about it. He needs muscle.”

”Well why the hell did Roman send you to me? We don’t deal, not after last time went to hell because of Little Red Riding Fuck.”

”Oh, this isn’t a ‘deal’. You are going to walk out of this building with me, and we’re going to go for a walk with my associates outside. Grab any weapon you want to bring along.”

Junior gritted his teeth. Who the fuck did this smarmy little punk think she was? Did Roman send him some delusional bank robber? A Dust-snorting psychopath? If she treated Roman like this, she’d have her head on his table by the end of the hour. Junior wasn’t ABOUT to take this shit. Grabbing Last Call off the bar, and propping it on his shoulder, he looked down at the girl in question, and started to smile.

”Give me a reason not to cave your head in and throw you out of my building.”

”Simple. I kill your henchmen, the two greeters you seem so terribly attached to and tear this building to the ground.”

Wait a second, that... oh, HELL no. Melanie and Miltia were kin. If this bitch thought she was gonna get away with swinging her lady dick around in his establishment after obviously duping Roman somehow, or being duped by him into trying her shit with him... she was about to get a little object lesson. 

“Alright, listen here, you little shit...”

’Miltia’ was looking over one of the tables at him, just out of sight. If he turned his head, he’d be able to see her clearly. Unfortunately for ‘Miltia’, he already knew this game. 

“I can see your friend. Illusion Semblances don’t work on me, especially when I know my girls are in the back. Your little empty threats and parlor tricks aren’t going to stop me from sending you through the skylight.”

”Oh, is it now? I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Roman works for me. If I tell him to put a hole in your head, he’ll do it without hesitation, because he knows just what will happen if I don’t get what I need. So, tell me, Hei. Are you going to help me?”

Junior raised an eyebrow, doing his best to keep a poker face, even as his heart jumped into his throat. He knew a liar when he saw one- either this girl was a whole new tier of con, or she was being deadly serious. Considering that unlike most people, she knew his first name walking into the building, she likely wasn’t bluffing. Either way, he couldn’t afford to see if she was bluffing at this point. He could call Roman on the way.

”Fine. Give me an hour.”

”Five minutes.”

”Lady-“

”Do not. Test me.”

Junior’s frown deepened, and with a loud sigh, he went into the back room behind the bar. “Milly! Mel!”

”Jeez, Junior, like, why are you being so loud?” Melanie called from upstairs, obviously engrossed in her makeup or SOMETHING.

”I’m going out on business. Hold down the fort, and for the love of fuck, don’t let Blondie break the new bar!”

”Whatever,” she replied.

With another sigh, Junior tapped Last Call against his shoulder rhythmically as he went back behind the bar, walking out through the panel door, and brushing past the woman. Suddenly, he stopped, looking over his shoulder.

”Why the fake ID?”

“It’s not fake,” the woman replied conservatively. Junior just shrugged, and pushed open the door, revealing that Roman was waiting for him outside, along with a kid with bullet grey hair and the look of a snide motherfucker, and some guy with a big beard, a bigger rifle, a baseball cap, and a leather trench coat over some bulletproof padding.

”Roman.”

”Junior! Why the long face, thought you’d be glad to see me? Didn’t enjoy the missus’ company?”

”Don’t bullshit me. What’s the angle here?”

”Our strange friend here has been looking for a way home, and now he thinks we have one. Of course, he’s been doing a few odd jobs for us, and now that the plan is in motion, he could use a bit more help with said odd jobs. It’s an offer you can’t refuse, Junior- money, power, and a place in the new world!”

”’New world, my ass,” muttered Junior. “Let’s just get this shit over with and done, shall we?”

* * *

Well, he didn’t know WHAT the fuck else he was supposed to expect after that.

 The middle of the goddamn Forever Fall, red trees, Grimm, and all. And for someone who claimed to be from somewhere else entirely, Trenchcoat seemed adamant that he’d been headed the right way. 

 

 

 

”What did you say your name was?” Mercury- the grey-haired goon- asked, looking over at Trenchcoat.

”Call me Ezekiel.”

”Right, ‘Ezekiel.’ I get that you’re completely and utterly lost, so you can just stop leading us on this wild goose chase before my legs fall off AGAIN.”

”I know where we’re goin’, boy.”

Far be it from Junior to question a man with that much certainty in his talk. He followed Ezekiel, the party of Emerald-the broad with the illusions-, Cinder, Mercury, Roman, and himself trying to keep up with the stranger’s brisk pace. He carried himself like this was a matter of life and death for all of them, and only Cinder and Emerald seemed to be taking it seriously. Good for them.

About a mile more of walking, and there was a loud  _THUD_. 

“What was that?” Roman asked, recoiling slightly at the impact.

”Her. Let’s go.”

Who the hell was ‘her?’

Still they walked, occasionally being interrupted by the sound of rustling in the trees and more heavy thuds, each growing louder with every minute of walking through the wood. Soon, it was almost deafening, and the bomb-like impacts were starting to shake the ground.  

“This ‘her’ seems like she’s going to be very problematic,” Junior noted tactfully.

”Understatement,” replied Ezekiel. “She’s a killer.”

 An Ursa roared just up ahead, followed by another roar that sounded unlike anything Junior had ever heard in his life. It actually, deep down, scared him. It sounded like a damn abomination from the pit of hell. 

”She’s here. Don’t kill her, just maim her!” 

”What is ‘she’?” Cinder asked, receiving no answer. 

”Remember the deal!” Emerald reminded him. Ezekiel didn’t comment. 

A few more minutes of running towards the sound, and it was visible. Junior couldn’t really find a descriptor right off the bat, but it came soon enough. UGLY. The thing, “Subject Beta”, was holding two separated halves of an Ursa, one in each hand, and screaming at the sky. Its head was covered in some sort of metal plate with glowing green lights, and SOMETHING connected to its back by tubes and metal piping. Two large, meat-tenderizer-shaped bricks were braced to its arms, and its mouth unfurled from behind two tusks, unfurled being the word of choice because the thing’s mouth didn’t open down, it opened sideways, jaw disjointing as a mouth lined with needle-like teeth all over flung thick green spittle into the sky. 

Ezekiel stopped dead in his tracks, before firing his gun twice into the sky. “HEY, UGLY! REMEMBER ME!?”

”Beta” turned around, its eyes locking with Ezekiel’s, a moment of tense silence piercing the forest as Cinder and company tried to think of a game plan.

Ezekiel wasn’t having any of it, instead shooting the thing directly in the mouth as it went to scream again. With a roar of agony, and another pounding of fists on the ground, punctuated by the second impact of the metal things on its arms, it stared down the assembled lowlives from behind at least 5 inches of solid plate metal.

Pile Drivers.

’Someone thought it was a good idea to put a weapon on this ugly motherfucker,’ thought Junior. 

Cinder pulled her arm back, shards of glass forming in her hands as she readied up some sort of bow, while Roman had already raised Melodic Cudgel and started firing. Emerald and Mercury broke off to each side, leaving Junior to take the most expedient option. When in doubt, drop rockets on it.

”Fire in the hole!” the bartender shouted, raising Last Call and slamming the butt backward, priming the weapon for action. He could see Ezekiel take a flying dive past the creature, his rifle belching fire as he tried to clear the blast zone.

Well, whether he died or not, Junior was getting paid. He fired.

Each of the six cluster missiles he fired hit the mark, slamming into the creature and staggering it as a cloud of smoke formed. Roars of agony filled the air as the beast reared its ugly head from the smoke, throwing its arms out through the smoke cloud as it began to clear. Some kind of orange gunk flew from its mouth, probably blood, and the beast charged forward, seemingly right at Junior, before slamming into the ground in front of him and attempting to swat at its own back. He could see Emerald’s illusion on top of it, but it was obvious from the lack of attacks that it wasn’t the genuine article. 

“Mercury! Help me!” she shouted 

“I’m on it, I’m on it!” 

Said kid proceeded to deliver a literal shotgun kick to the face of the creature, followed up by an artful, if a bit silly spinning roundhouse kick that served only to get his leg caught and crushed. For some reason, the kid didn’t look at all in pain. More like he was annoyed. Junior wondered if his Semblance was to ignore pain. He’d met a guy with that one back at Signal.

Junior took action, a glass arrow firing over his shoulder as he converted Last Call to bludgeon form, all 6’11” and 270 pounds of man coming through a home-run swing at Subject Beta’s head.

It barely even  _flinched_. 

Throwing Mercury over its head, it roared aloud as it swung a huge brick of meat disguised as a fist at Junior, who just caught it with the edge of his weapon, and was STILL sent hurtling through the air. Roaring again, a large purple rift formed in the air behind it, much to Ezekiel’s awe.

”What in the name of-“ Roman started.

”So long, shitheads!” Ezekiel shouted, bolting towards the portal with a mile-wide grin, and leaping towards it, turning in midair to give Cinder a one-finger salute. As soon as he hit it, the purple thing, and Ezekiel, disappeared.

Smart man. Junior woulda ran for it too if he knew it got him the fuck out of here.

* * *

_Far away from Forever Fall_

_Outskirts of Humanity Falls_

 

 

Colonel Ezekiel Collins, formerly of XCOM, currently of Moira Vahlen’s security detail, went flying from ‘Remnant’, his home for the past two weeks, and into a fucking fruit stand at about 30 miles an hour. The laws of space and time continued to be a bitch.

”Jesus Christ!” The woman behind the stand cried out as Ezekiel realized that he now had a faceful of tomato pulp and cherry juice, and couldn’t be happier about it. The veteran pulled himself to his feet, looking up at the woman.

”Quick, what planet am I on?”

”U-um, Earth!” she replied.

”What day is it?”

”April 30th, 2035!”

”Where am I right now?”

”Humanity Falls, Michigan!”

Ezekiel threw his arms around the woman and planted a sloppy, fruit-covered kiss right on her lips, before leaping off and running towards the town, and the big ship in the distance. “FUCKING FREEDOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”

* * *

 


	3. The Game, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust is earned. And you don’t get any say in how much you get.

“This is... something.”

Dr. Richard Tygan had seen many, many strange things in his life. After all, he’d worked in the ADVENT Administration. He knew quite a bit about the strange world that they lived in now, hell, he cams of age in it. They were already working on projects to upgrade XCOM’s armory to the same magnetic coilguns used by ADVENT Peacekeepers, which was a pipe dream in and of itself before the invasion.

But this? This was new.

”Doctor Quaruz, is something the matter?” Tygan walked over to the doctor in question, her white hair making her stand out like a neon light in the dark green glow of the science lab.

”These weapons are full of moving parts and stuff, but I don’t see any traditional mechanisms, Doctor Tygan. Look- O’Connor, can you unload the rifle?”

Dr. Idris O’Connor attempted to do so, holding the red-and-gold weapon in his hand. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be having any luck unloading it, instead, the weapon began to roll and shift in his hands, extending and folding out into a sword, the blade of which proceeded to slice his hand wide open. “Ah, fer fook’s sake!”

Quoruz immediately went and grabbed the weapon out of his hands, leaving the other scientist to run and mend his wounds, cursing all the way.

“Whatever, we managed to unload the pistol. Take a look at these.”

Quoruz directed Tygan’s attention to a pair of green pistols with long, hatchet-like blades, the contents of which had been emptied next to it- the bullets were capped with an unknown metal, of a greenish color, and appeared to be filled with some sort of alternative to cordite. They also weren’t made of a traditional material, a transparent plastic-like material making up the shell casing.

”Doctor Quoruz, I’d like you to send these weapons to engineering. Inform the Chief Engineer that I would also like to run tests on the propellant in these bullets. If she can acquire some from the other weapons, I would be most grateful.”

“Got it, sir. I’ll be back shortly.”

”Don’t tarry too long. I believe there are MANY practical applications for this technology.”

* * *

 

Dr. Quoruz made it to Engineering, ridiculously heavy weaponry in tow, no thanks to any of the ‘gentlemen’ in the halls, dropping it all on the floor as she collapsed into a gasping, sweaty mess. “Jeeeeesuuuuus...”

Chief Engineer Shen looked up from her workstation. “You okay, Michelle?”

”I’m going to DIE.”

”Yeesh, how heavy is that stuff?”

”I have NO fucking idea.”

Shen walked over, helping the scientist to her feet and starting to gather the weapons, largest first. The hammer was by far the heaviest, feeling something like 15 pounds. “How do you... lift this thing?”

”Beats me,” Michelle replied, grabbing the sword and shield and putting them on the bench, as Shen did the same with the hammer before going back.

”So, give me the skinny.”

”These weapons appear to be powered by some extraterrestrial propellant, and are able to mechanically shift into firearms or other melee weapons. That red and gold sword? It’s also a gun.”

”Yeesh. Who the hell needs all that?”

”These kids, apparently.”

”Pity anyone who has to fight something that takes that kind of tech. Did they have any armor or anything?”

”Solid plate. Nothing too advanced.”

”That’s weird. It’s gotta be thick enough to stop a bullet, so it’s probably not light stuff. On top of these weapons they’re probably pretty loaded down.”

”Yeah, I bet. So, Tygan wants you to take a look at this stuff and send a sample of propellant from each of the weapons back to him. He also wants you to see about reverse-engineering the weapons tech.”

”That’s a tall order. This stuff is like the unholy lovechild of Space Age and Dark Ages. It’ll take me a while to analyze this stuff.”

”It’s fine. We don’t have many other projects anyway, other than the new weapons and armor.”

”Yeah, should probably take about a month, tops.”

”How long do you reckon it’ll take to fabricate the new guns and armor?”

”The armor should be ready for field deployment next week, the guns the week after.”

”Awesome, I know the guys will be pumped. Anyway, see ya around, Lil, I gotta get back to the science bay.”

”Wait. While you’re out, I need you to tell Bradford to come down.”

”Why’s that?”

Shen motioned for Dr. Quoruz to come behind the workbench, and pointed at the computer ROV-R was hooked up to. The screen displayed a single, glowing green spiral in the middle of what used to be China.

”Remember that signal?”

”What about it?”

”I found where it’s coming from.”

”Ho-ly _shit_.”

* * *

Mealtime was rather rudely interrupted by a very, VERY intense Chief Engineer Shen and Central Officer Bradford demanding a meeting in the Guerilla Tactics School, which very obviously confused the LIVING SHIT out of the new arrivals. Thus, Declan took it upon himself, merciful man that he was, to guide the childrens to their respective rooming arrangements. While Nora protested, everyone else seemed fine with the sudden rush, especially Ren, who looked like he was about to pass the FUCK out. As a matter of fact, he immediately flopped onto his bunk and did just that. 

Once that was taken care of, Declan rendezvoused with Jerry and Adam, the latter of the two seemed absolutely fuck-all pissed.

”What’s got your britches in a knot, King George?” Declan asked, slapping the Brit on the back as he began walking to the impromptu situation room, Jerry in tow.

”What’s the fuckin’ luck, eh, Declan? First Valhen, now Shen, and Shen’s bloody DEAD.”

”Shen’s not dead.”

”Her dad, Dec,” Jerry explained. “The Chief’s dad was the Chief Engineer for Old XCOM. During the invasion. He died around the time that the old organization collapsed. Supposedly, he left something behind for Lily, and for whatever reason, we’re only just now hearing about it.”

”So we got a ghost in the machine?”

”I don’t know and I’m as ready as anyone to find out,” Adam replied. “If it’s some sort of sick joke I’m going to kill someone.”

”You and your death threats, Sarge.”

The rest of the walk to the GTS was uneventful save for the crowd, who were being dispelled one by one as Bradford picked and chose who needed to know and who didn’t. Once the three entered and caught Bradford’s eye, he nodded.

”Alright. Thanks for the hustle, soldiers, but I’m only gonna need a few hands. Thomas, MacAuley, Delacroix, Jones, and Hall, stick around. The rest of you, go back to your grub. It’s not going anywhere.”

There was a bit of a ruckus, annoyed and relieved in equal measure, as the room cleared, giving everyone space to maneuver. In the suddenly more casual setting, Declan chose to sit on the weight bench, while Adam and Sophie stood by the door. Jerry and Murph simply stood where the crowd had been gathered, in the center of the room.

”What’s the play?” Murph asked, folding his arms. To the point, as usual.

”Remember that signal we picked up from ROV-R? The one that was apparently from Shen? Well, we triangulated the source. Lily?”

Lily nodded at ROV-R, who flashed a holographic projection- a tall, cylindrical tower that had obviously seen better days.

”This is Shaxiang Tower, formerly a R&D facility run by ADVENT for use in their Mechanized Peacekeeper program. Recently, the facility went dark, but no ADVENT or Resistance teams have ever been able to penetrate the security system. Something happened in the facility, and now, it’s sending out a signal. It’s suspicious, and most definitely a high risk operation, but we need to find out who the hell in that facility is contacting us, and how they know Raymond.”

”My dad is dead. I know that. But if someone, or something, knows about him, and knows how to contact us, then we’re in considerable danger,” Lily explained. “We have to hit it, or else we could be facing one hell of a bad time.”

”When do we head out?” Adam asked.

”Now. Start gearing up, it’ll still be a few hours before we arrive, but you need to be ready,” Bradford replied.

”Right. You heard ‘im, Menace. Get movin’.”

Adam immediately exited the room as the picture of professionalism, leaving Declan to look after a shrugging Sophie, who followed him out the door. Weird how that girl was pretty much taped to Adam’s back. Maybe she figured the old man knew what he was doing. Maybe she was worried he’d throw his back out. Who knew? 

Declan wasn’t in a hurry though, instead waiting for Jerry and Murph to finish their questioning.

”What’s resistance look like?” Jerry asked.

”No signs of life, but the automated systems will almost certainly still be online, or at the very least on standby.”

”What about the team? Slot’s empty,” Murphy pointed out.

”I’m going with you,” replied Lily.

”That’s a negative.”

”I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I don’t remember asking you for your opinion on the matter.”

”Lil, you’re not a combatant, and you’re sure as hell not ready for a sensitive operation like this.”

”First of all, _Gregory_ , I’ve been training with a rifle since we caught that signal. Second, I’m the best tech we have. I can get us into the facility with a snap of my fingers.”

”Soph’s a Specialist, she could handle it-“

”Sophie is a script kiddie who can barely parse Python!”

”Yo, Chief, come on,” Jerry interrupted, stepping forward and putting his hand out, the only man in the room keeping an even tone at this point. “If you go down out there, we’re fucked. There’s no one on this ship capable of doing what you do. Do you understand why we’re kind of concerned?”

”It’s not necessary, Jerry. I’m bringing you five along for a reason.”

Murph stood silently for a moment, contemplating, before giving a slow, thoughtful nod. “Right. That’ll be all. C’mon, Jerry, we got a date to keep.”

The two members of Hitman Team left, Jerry taking a moment to knock Declan’s outstretched fist on the way out, drawing the CO and Shen’s attention to the last man in the room with them.

”Got anything to contribute, Declan?” asked Bradford.

“Not really.”

”Go ahead and get ready, then. Have you talked to Doctor Mayes?”

”Not today.”

”Get on that as soon as you can. I need you in top form.”

”Yessir.”

With that in mind, Declan stood up, gave a lazy salute, and left the room.

* * *

 

As of right now, Jaune was currently in “Menace Team’s” bunk area. 8 beds total.  He’d apparently been assigned to the same bunk bed as Sophie, the girl that had gotten Team JNPR some decent changes of clothes. She seemed really nice, and everyone on the team seemed to like her enough. It would be nice sleeping above someone who probably wasn’t going to try and kill him.

The same could not be said of Jack, the big, burly man who’d, rather boldly, threatened to eat Nora’s nose. His bunk was across the room from Jaune, and above him was Adam, the man from the cave that Jaune recalled was of the opinion that shooting everyone was the best option. Neither of them seemed to be the most well-adjusted people, but considering the hearsay he’d picked up, it sounded like these people had a reason to be scared. 

Migrating to one of the other sets of beds on the other side was Lawrence Hamilton, the guy who had what was now Jaune’s bed. They’d met at lunch- Lawrence was an older-looking man with dark russet hair, a thick mustache, and a pair of aviator sunglasses that, according to Sophie, only came off when he was sleeping, and even then, he slept facing the wall. Mysterious fellow, but a nice one. He didn’t talk very much, though. Below him was Declan, who Jaune... wasn’t sure how to feel about. He seemed a bit wild, and almost everyone else on the ship gave him funny looks, but he also wasn’t an asshole. Just eccentric. REALLY eccentric. 

The final bunk bed off in the corner had one empty slot, and another one marked ‘J. Kelly.’ The bed was immaculate, save for a baseball cap sitting on top of it. It didn’t look like it was in use, unlike the other beds, which were still sorta messy- it was obvious most everyone that wasn’t Adam wasn’t trying to make an impression.

Looking around the room is where things got a bit more interesting. The room was surprisingly well-furnished, with a small round table, a microwave, a mini fridge, a couch, two chairs, and a TV off in the corner. Around the TV were some display cases, one of which had a solid black acoustic guitar with a design of some sort of circle around it, marked with patterns that didn’t really make any sense to Jaune. The opposite side case contained some sort of poster, advertising a concert for some band called “Bad Rabbits”. Above the TV rested a large yellow flag that carried the image of a snake, and the words “Don’t Tread on Me.” Other things were scattered around the room, like a strange, short-handled paddle, a jersey with the name “Sagole” and the number 6 on the back, a picture of Lawrence, a woman, and two kids, and a row of CDs that appeared to be from a band called “Stratosphere”. Besides the picture, he wondered what belonged to who. Maybe it would be a good conversation starter.

Speaking of conversation, Sophie entered the room, followed by Declan.

”Ello, Jaune!” 

“Yo, yo, yo, Mellow Yellow!”

Jaune sat up a little too fast and whacked his head against the ceiling, drawing a guffaw from Declan. “Ack!”

”Aaaaaand he’s initiated!”

”Mind the gap, fella, it’s a doozy the first few times.” Sophie plopped down on the couch, leaning up against the back to look over at Jaune. “You like it?”

”Yeah, it’s nice, considering how cramped you guys are. I was just looking around. This is all your stuff?”

”Yup!” she replied. 

“Whose guitar is that?” 

“That’d be mine, boy. Been playin’ since I was 13,” Declan explained.

”Cool! My dad taught me how to play a few years ago. Ladies love it.”

”I bet they do, string bean, you look like you have about as much game as a geriatric old man at a Sunday Social.”

”Jeez, Declan, Adam and Jack will be troubling him enough!” Sophie chided, punching Declan in the arm. “Bully.”

”Consume my pantaloons, darlin’.” Declan  plopped onto his bunk, pulling a duffel bag out from under it. “Glad I didn’t change yet.”

”You’re not gonna take a shower?”

”Who’s gonna smell me? The aliens?”

”No, but I can’t do that, I’ll feel dirty as all hell!”

”You’re definitely not a soldier, Soph.”

”Neither are you! You were a hobo!”

”The proper lingo is ‘traveling musician’, my dear Sophia.”

”Jaune, back me up here!” Sophie demanded, pointing at the scraggly blonde in question.

”He doesn’t even know you or me from Eve’s left tit!” Declan punctuated his vulgar -ism by flicking Sophie in the head, which drew her ire even further. 

“I’m gonna rip off that caterpillar on your lip and shove it up your arse!”

Jaune watched the two bicker back and forth, insults volleying between them. Sophie seemed to be getting angrier by the second, but Declan? Declan was having a blast. 

“You’re such a twat to everyone, Declan!”

”Go cry to your boyfriend about it, then.”

”HEY! Don’t go there!”

”Hey, Jaune! You’re a ladykiller, right? Sweep Lil’ Miss Princess off her feet and get her out of my hair.”

”Oi, he’s a teenager from another planet!”

”And you’re 23.”

”That’s besides the point! Did you not hear the ‘another planet’ part?”

”Why are you bringing me into this!?” Jaune asked, confused. 

“Because Declan is a dick!”

”Because it’s the only entertainment I get in my miserable existence,” replied Declan, ruffling Sophie’s hair to her further annoyance. “I’m gonna go sharpen my axes, if you two little snots decide to fuck, let me know.”

”Stop that!” Sophie demanded, grabbing a coffee cup and throwing it at the rising Declan, who deflected it with a backhand, sending it shattering across the floor.

”That was Adam’s, you know.”

”I’ll tell him you broke it!”

”I bet.”

As Declan walked to the door, speak of the devil, there was Adam. With a smile, Declan pointed back into the room. 

“Hey, Chief. Jaune broke that mug you’ve been fussing over.”

Aaaaaand under the bus he went.

”I heard you from down the hall, you shit,” Adam replied. “Get out.”

”Yeesh.”

Declan walked out of the room, leaving Adam to walk in, toting a large bag, and a blanket. Dropping them both on the center of the floor, he pointed at Jaune without even looking. “Off the bed.”

”Huh?” 

“Are you deaf, or just daft? Off the bed.”

”Sir-“ Sophie began, only to be shut down by Adam.

”I SAID off the bed, and he’s going to comply.”

Jaune figured there was no point in arguing with the guy, so he stepped down off the bed, and looked over at the bag. “Alright.”

”Congratulations. This is your new bed,” Adam explained, pointing at the blanket on the floor, then at the bag. “This is your pillow. If I see you anywhere else than on the floor after 2300, I’m putting a slug through your head. Are we clear?”

Jaune balked slightly, and Sophie just looked at him with a defeated frown, mouthing ‘I’m so sorry’.

”I said ARE WE CLEAR, lad, or do I have to personally come over there and knock the shit out of your ears?”

”R-right!”

”I’m not on your right, you stupid fuck!”

”Yes sir!”

”Damn right!”

This was going to be a very long few weeks.

* * *

 

Nora herself would be the first to tell you she’s no genius, but even she was absolutely certain the lack of team contact was getting to Pyrrha. It was kinda weird- Pyrrha was a celebrity, but she seemed to withdraw when in the presence of strangers. 

That, or she just didn’t trust them, which is a totally reasonable thought about these strangers, considering some of them made it VERY clear they wanted to KILL her and her teammates. That was totally grounds for suspicion

The room they were staying in was heavily decorated, with flags, posters, guns, a bunch of pictures, an old record player, and a weird drawing of a bear with three eyes. It was pretty cool, but also pretty creepy. On the same piece of paper there was a bunch of faces. She recognized Roderick, Jerry, and Murph, although they looked a little different- Murph wasn’t wearing his hat, revealing that, at least in the drawing, he had long hair, Roderick had short hair, and Jerry was clean-shaven.

Weird.

Speaking of Jerry, said guy walked into the room with Murph, the latter adjusting his hat slightly and taking off his armored top. 

“This shit’s too heavy.”

”No shit. Plus, it doesn’t have any character, you know? We just look like a bunch of goons,” Jerry agreed, before looking over at Pyrrha. “Hey.”

”Hello again.”

”You look a little down. You good?”

”I’m fine, thank you.”

”Alright, just let us know if you need anything before we head out.”

”Where ya goin’?” Nora piped up.

”Mission,” Murph answered, tossing off his undershirt and grabbing a vest that did very little to protect his torso. “Gonna be hot where we’re headed, Jerry. Don’t wear that sweatshirt.”

”I got plenty of other stuff,” Jerry replied, illustrating his point by whipping out an old green T-Shirt that carried the same three-eyed bear as the drawing. When he went to put it on, Nora noted that the back had some writing on it. ‘We gave peace a chance.’ Huh. “Shave, dude.”

”Fuck’s it matter to you, kid?”

”Dude, you’ve got more hair on your chest than Roderick has in his beard, it’s kinda disturbing.”

Murph shrugged. “Anyway. Think I’m gonna bring along the new shit.”

”Oooooh. Hey, guys,” Jerry started, “You wanna hear something cool?”

”Jerry-“

”Aw come on, they don’t know where the armory is. Anyway, wanna hear it?”

”Yeah!” Nora replied, bouncing up on the bed excitedly. She loved cool things, especially if they exploded. Explosions are GREAT.

”We got some grenades that freeze anything in the blast radius. Like, literally freeze it.” 

Nora’s mouth formed an ‘o’, and she slowly raised a hand. “I wanna see!”

”Ah, geez, Jerry, you’re breaking protocol, you cunt.”

”Aw, come on, what’s the harm? Look at her, she wouldn’t-“

”She walked into our lives with a hammer  that turns into a grenade launcher. There is PLENTY of potential harm.”

”You wanted to snag the thing from Tygan, so I think she has the right to watch us freeze something.”

”Who’s Tygan and what has he done with my BABY!?” Nora demanded, jumping off the bed and pointing accusitoraly at Murph, who threw his hands up.

”Easy, sheila, eaaaasy. They’re in storage. No one’s messin’ with ‘em.”

The room shifted slightly, causing Nora to stumble to the side and Pyrrha to start sliding off of her bed. A dull roar was just audible coming from outside the room.

”What was that?” Pyrrha asked.

”We’re taking off, but we’re ahead of schedule. That’s not normal,” Murph noted. 

“Yeah, we weren’t supposed to be at the mission site for another 11 hours. The trip won’t take that long.”

”Hang on a minute.” Murph went to walk out of the room, only to be bumped into by Roderick, who was carrying Manghild in his hands. “Oi!”

”No time to explain, Remi and I are snagging the kids’ gear. We’ve got a new best friend.” Roderick tossed the hammer at Nora, who caught it effortlessly.

“Awwwwww yeah!”

”Wait, what’s happening now?” Pyrrha asked, quickly getting to her feet.

”I’ll get you guys some body armor. I saw that shit you did with the spoon, and I think you can give us a hand with a new development,” Roderick explained, pulling Miló and Akoúo off of his back. “Pyrrha!”

Pyrrha pulled the weapons into her grasp with her Semblance, still looking a bit confused. “What do you mean by ‘new development?’”

Roderick looked at Murph. “If the bridge crew’s any indication, we’re about to take a hard fucking drop.”

“Wait, we’re landing again?”

”No. We’re being grounded. There’s a damn UFO tailing the Avenger.”

”When did this start!?” Jerry asked, hurriedly digging through his bag and pulling out some sort of first aid kits. 

“And what makes you think handing the kids guns is a good idea!?” Murph followed.

”What’re they gonna do, shoot us?”

”You don’t know they won’t!”

”If the ayys shoot at them, we know that they’re on our side. If they don’t, they’re infiltrators.”

”Your reasoning sucks, Roderick!”

”Think. You know the Faceless, right?”

”What about them?”

”The aliens never shot at them.”

”He’s got a point,” Jerry agreed. “Best one I’ve heard all day, at that. Hey, Nora, Pyrrha, you gonna shoot us in the back?”

”What kind of question is that?” Nora half-chortled. “Heck no!”

”If you need our help, we owe you for taking us in. You can trust us,” Pyrrha assured him.

”Yeah, well the moment you show any signs of otherwise you’re getting lit up. Mind your aim.”

Murph looked back at the girls, frowning something fierce, before shaking his head. “I’m not gonna babysit you. You watch your own shit out there. Now, let’s get you in some kind of gear so you don’t get canned.”

The three soldiers left the room, Pyrrha and Nora following immediately. The narrow halls were crowded by people with similar ideas, and Nora made out one guy barreling towards them with Stormflower on his hip and Crocea Mors on his back.

“Roddy, where the blue fuck is the guy with the shield?” he asked.

”He’s with Menace!” Roderick replied.

”Right!” Just like that, the man ran past them, evidently headed to give the weapons to Jaune and Ren. “Oh, son of a bitch! Menace’s door is locked!”

”Of course it is! Jerry, Lieutenant, keep going, I’m gonna get that door open!” Roderick followed after the man, running up to the door and charging it shoulder first. “Open up!”

Jerry sighed aloud, but continued ahead, motioning for Pyrrha and Nora to keep up. It wasn’t much farther of a run before the lights cut out, and the ship rocked violently, causing at a few of the people running to lose their balance, including one unfortunate soul who slammed into the wall face first.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Remi!” someone shouted.

”I’m fine! Go!”

”Armory is this way,” Jerry pointed out, turning on his heel as the ship began to slowly lurch downward. “We’ll get you something that makes you look like less of a bullseye.”

The Armory was packed with people grabbing weapons and armor, but Jerry managed to squirrel through and drag out some equipment- a pair of slate grey bodysuits.  Pyrrha’s fit eerily well, but Nora had a little bit too much to work with. Evidently there weren’t many people her size here. 

“Hurry up, we’re on a goddamn timetable!” Adam could be heard shouting. 

“Workin’ on it!” Declan shouted back.

Not too far from Pyrrha, she heard someone else. “Here’s a mic. Spot targets for me.”

”Alright,” Ren replied. Pyrrha was surprised he’d been noticed by anyone.

”Alright everyone, we’re touching down! They’re setting up some sort of jammer to keep us grounded,” Bradford explained. “Find it, take it out, get back on board! Now move, we’re unloading!”

”Who’s doing what?” Jack shouted.

”I’ll take out the jammer!” Declan volunteered.

”I’ll help him!” ‘Remi’ followed.

Pyrrha felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked over at Jerry. Green locked on green, and Jerry smiled.

”You stick close, alright? You watch my back, I watch yours.”

Pyrrha smiled back. “Got it.”

”Don’t do anythin’ stupid, kid!” Murph ordered from behind them.

”Oh, puh-lease!” Nora propped Manghild over her shoulder and grinned the kind of grin that kept Team JNPR awake at night. “I know EXACTLY what I’m doing!”

’She has no idea what she’s doing.’

* * *

_Far Away from the Avenger_

_Beacon_ _Academy_  

 

“WHADDYA MEAN, JNPR IS MISSING!?” Yang shouted, indignant. 

“I mean JNPR is missing, Yang,” Weiss replied. “While Jaune cutting class wouldn’t surprise me, and Ren sleeping too late is also reasonable, it’s impossible for ALL FOUR of them to suddenly stop attending classes, and it’s certainly out of character for any of them to miss lunch. If you don’t believe me, why do you think      that drunken buffoon is wandering around the school! Look, there he is!”

Sure enough, there was a man with a flask of something skulking around the cafeteria, evidently looking for JNPR. While this meant nothing to Weiss or Blake, Ruby took off like a shot from Crescent Rose straight at the man in question.

”What’s got her excited?” Blake asked.

”That’s our uncle Qrow. He works for Signal Academy, back in Patch. I don’t know why they asked him to look,” Yang explained. “Still, he’s good at what he does, so... I know he’ll find ‘em.”

”In that state!?” Weiss exclaimed. “He’s soused out of his mind!”

As if to contrast her statement, said uncle seemed to be handling the attempted love tackle from Ruby rather well, smiling and knuckling her hair under affectionately. 

“That’s his secret. He’s always drunk.”

”That doesn’t make me feel any better!”

”Yang does have a point, though. He is a trained Huntsman. He’ll be able to find out what happened... if he’s not drunk.”

”I ‘unno, ol’ Uncle Qrow’s pulled off some magic before.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear- Qrow walked over to the rest of Team RWBY, niece in tow. 

“Hey, unc!”

”Yang.” Qrow looked over at the other two members of the team. “Weiss and Blake, right? Ruby’s wrote about you. The name’s Qrow. Oz called me to help him look for a missing team, said you guys were close.”

”Yes,” Weiss agreed, “we were. They were out on a training exercise earlier this morning, but... they never came back.”

”That’s what I heard. I got the location they were wandering in. We’ll see if we can get any leads. Oz says he wants you guys helping me out, though, says y’all will be able to learn somethin’ from this. That being said, we’ll start tomorrow.”

”Sounds good,” Blake agreed, nodding quickly. “We’ll be ready when you need us.”

”Hey, with any luck, we’ll be having lunch with our pals this time tomorrow!” Yang pumped her fists, nearly whacking Weiss in her excitement. 

“Right. See you tomorrow, kids. I got business.”

Qrow took the opportunity presented by Ruby’s withdrawal to bop her on the head, before turning on a heel and heading for the exit. A slightly annoyed Ruby pouted after him, though it didn’t last long.

”So...” Ruby started.

”So...” Yang began.

”I’ve been taking notes in class so JNPR can catch up,” Blake interrupted.

“As have I!” Weiss followed. “AND I already had someone finish a dissertation for Advanced Dust Mechanics, in case Ren forgot to finish the assignment.”

”Weiss literally pays someone else to do someone else’s work for her. Scandalous,” Blake jibed.

”I’m just looking out for our friends! J-just this one time! I’m not a cheat!”

* * *

Back in the halls of Beacon, Qrow couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved. Something about this was mysterious. One person in Emerald Forest was a tragedy. A team of Huntsmen in training disappearing without a single trace in an area of the Emerald Forest that was heavily monitored by Beacon staff for the express purpose of being used as a training zone?

Something was very, very wrong, and he wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but one thing was for sure, he wasn’t cool with Oz putting any kids on it, let alone his nieces.

”Boss man better have a good fuckin’ idea of how to deal with this,” Qrow muttered, headed for the massive double doors that led to the world outside.

Tomorrow be damned. He had his own investigation to run. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I’m flippy-dipping between Remnant and Earth. The focus of the story is Earth, but I wanna check in with the gang every once in a while. 
> 
> Also, I decided to try something different- to keep me engaged with my readers on a more personal level, I made a discord server for you to talk to me. Cha-cha-cha-check it.
> 
> https://discord.gg/ZvVBCnE


	4. The Game, pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you put enough blunt force trauma to something it’s going to fall over.

“ _Alright_ _kid, you hear me in your ear?_ ” asked the sniper. Ren hadn’t caught his name, but he’d evidently been trusted enough to help this man call his shots. Wasn’t wise to refuse that kind of trust in the middle of a fight.

”Yes, loud and clear.”

” _Alright. I’m Corporal Hamilton. I’m gonna be counting on you to help me out there. Don’t fuck this up. Now, listen, cause this is only gonna work if you do this right. When the doors open, you move in. Stay low, stay in cover, don’t engage unless you’re immediately threatened. Excersice target prioritization. Biggest threats first. I’ll be keeping my eyes around you, so make sure you make your commands relative to your position. Got it?”_

”I understand.”

_”Alright. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you alive.”_

Ren’s temporary partner was a old bull of a man- deep russet hair, a thick mustache, and world-weary brown-gray eyes hidden behind massive, scratched-up ballistic goggles made it clear that he’d been at this fighting business for a while, but the way he carried himself and his rifle didn’t show any signs of slowing down with age, which was surprising. By Ren’s estimate, the man had to be at least 50. Also unusually, Ren couldn’t get an emotional read on the man- his Semblance wasn’t malfunctioning, the man just seemed that calm. As if this was just another day at the office to him.  Maybe it was.

Ren’s train of thought was interrupted by the hissing of hydraulics and pistons as the doors to the airship slowly opened, revealing a rosy sunset over a semi-wooded landscape, dotted by small rock outcroppings and a few old, dilapidated buildings. An old gravel road led to a gas station on the far left, while the far right seemed to be one large plateau, with a small creek running along its length.

“ _I’m headed up top,”_ Hamilton informed him. 

“Okay. I suppose you want me to stay at ground level?”

_”Yep.”_

Ren nodded, and the doors slowly went down the rest of the way, a small platform deploying from the end of the ramp, small metal barricades folding out from it. In the sky above, at least a dozen black aircraft slowly approached the airship.

_”Hey, Sarge. My little helper and I are going ahead. Mind your fire.”_

_”’Little helper- Corporal, you little SHIT!”_ Adam’s irritation was palpable even through the earpiece- Ren suddenly realized he must be patched in with every one of the soldiers who was deploying. That could come in handy.

_”Trial by fire, Sarge. I can see everything where we’re going. Friendly fire isn’t gonna be an issue.”_

_”... you better be right. Oi, you! Don’t fuck this up!”_

_“He won’t. Get moving, kid.”_

 Ren took that as his cue, and hit the ground running, dashing through the crowd and out the door in front of everyone else, taking a flying leap over both the barricades.

”Jesus!” Alexios shouted from behind him. 

Training his eyes on the field ahead, Ren could already see some transports on the ground, black-and-red armored soldiers with masks that covered all but their mouths hopping out of the sides, loading weapons and barking orders in a language Ren didn’t recognize. A couple of large, humanoid robots also disembarked from the transports, following certain, red-armored soldiers with long shoulder capes.

Ren dug his heels in and slid to a halt behind a metal fence, crouching down to avoid being spotted. “Corporal?”

_”I see you, kid. I’m climbing up now. What’s it looking like down there?”_

”A lot of foot soldiers, some robots as well.”

_”You see any big, pink, naked alien motherfuckers?”_

”...What kind of question is that?” Ren looked anyway, but didn’t see anything matching that description. “Nothing of that sort, though.”

_”Cool. Any guys in red?”_

”I’m looking at one right now. The ship in the middle, in front of the white robot.”

There was a hum on the other end, and a long pause, before a dull bang rang out in the distance. Ren watched as a bullet pierced the skull of the aforementioned man in red, sending a spray of orange blood backwards, and the rest of the men behind him into a shouting frenzy.

_”Alright. I’m gonna bit the robot.”_

Another bang, and the robot toppled over, wiring and ceramic plated flying off in every direction from its ‘head’.

Ren looked back from where the shots had come from, and saw Lawrence crouched behind a rock, his rifle propped up on some sort of bipod. He shot Ren a quick thumbs up.

_”Let’s keep them comin’.”_

* * *

Back at the Avenger, only a few of the men had disembarked at once, the rest hanging back and trying to help the crew with repairs and getting the ship moving. Pyrrha recognized Declan, Adam, Jerry and Jack, but the man behind them, bedecked in piercings and wearing a large pair of dark-tinted goggles on his forehead was completely unfamiliar to her.

”Hey, Nikos Two! Come here!” Declan beckoned, waving an arm in Pyrrha’s direction. Pyrrha nodded, jogging over to him and shifting Milò to rifle form.

”Okay, you know what we’re doin’?” he asked.

”I believe I heard you say there was a jammer.”

”You believe correctly, missy. Lo, I come with a plan. You’re gonna use that metal-bendy shit and that shield of yours to help me and Remi over there cut a path through to the jammer, where we will make it explode with extreme prejudice. Then, we’re gonna run back like all hell is on our heels, and g-t-fuck-outtahere. Any questions? No? Awesome, let’s go!”

Pyrrha didn’t have even a second to voice her objections before Declan was off at full sprint, ‘Remi’, the man with the piercings, following right after.

 “Allons-y! Try and keep up!” the man jibed, smirking over his shoulder to reveal a trio of gold teeth.

Pyrrha shook her head, and followed along. These two were probably going to get seriously hurt if she didn’t. Every few seconds, the report of a rifle would ring in the evening sky, probably one of the snipers that Pyrrha had noticed were in the room when they went to disembark. The enemy were still a safe distance away, but they were closing quickly, and they had quite a few robots tailing them.

Nothing too threatening, really.

Declan dove through the window of a small gas station, the glass shattering beneath his weight as he landed with a loud thud inside. Remi hopped through more graciously, while Pyrrha slowed down for a moment to actually climb through like a sane person, something that seemed to be in rather short supply around here.

”That went better in your head?” Remi asked?

”In my head, I landed on my feet,” Declan muttered, brushing his arms and pulling himself to his feet. A few cuts trickled a bit of blood, but nothing serious. Well, it was actually really serious, because Pyrrha just realized something very, very crucial.

’These people don’t have Aura.’

Yep. They were going to DIE.

Filing that information into the back of her mind for now, she looked to the slightly roughed up redneck with the axes. “So, now that you’ve done that, what now?”

”We wait and see where they’re going, then we hit ‘em from the flank, and cut through to the jammer,” Declan explained. “I can already see gunfire, so it looks like everybody’s got lines of sight.”

”Hey, Delacroix!” Remi shouted, looking out of a nearby window. “What is that guy doing?”

”Lemme see.” Declan scurried over to that window, peeking out and looking for the source of Remi’s inquiry. “Oh, hey, it’s Ren. Looks like he’s spotting targets for Hamilton.”

Pyrrha rushed over the moment she heard her teammate’s name, and sure enough... there he was. He wasn’t shooting at anything, simply looking around and calling out to someone occasionally, the loud bangs she’d been hearing up to now following almost immediately. That must be ‘Hamilton’.

”I should go and help him,” Pyrrha started, looking for the exit, only for Declan to grab her by the arm.

”Hooooold on a second missy, I need your help a lot more than he does. Look, he’s fine!”

Pyrrha wasn’t having any of that. She didn’t have any sign of Jaune yet, Nora didn’t follow her, and she was damn certain that she was going to watch her friends’ backs as closely as possible, especially when the men she was ostensibly allied with threatened to kill her and her friends on a semi-regular basis. Jerking her arm out of Declan’s grip, she ran for the door, throwing it open and taking a single step before a searing pain rose from her shoulder, her Aura doing absolutely nothing to dull the sudden impact.

”Sacre’-“ Remi started, following out after her and grabbing her by the injured side, tossing her back as a hail of fire now flew in his direction, barely missing him as his rifle belched fire. He backpedaled towards Pyrrha moments later, looking over his own shoulder at her. “Lucky you! Didn’t hit anything important!”

Pyrrha looked where his eyes went- sure enough, there was an angry red wound on her shoulder, blood trailing down in a thin, slowly-dropping curtain. She could still move her arm, although it certainly hurt. Her Aura still wasn’t kicking in yet- as a matter of fact, she couldn’t even feel it at all.

”Yeah, I know, it looks worse than it is, now come on! If you’re going to run out like a madwoman, I’ll cover you, but for the love of Mother Mary use that goddamn shield!” 

Right. She had a shield. Taking that into account, Pyrrha started again, this time facing her front towards her assailants and using her shield to bat away the surprisingly slow projectiles. She wasn’t going to be dodging bullets, but it wouldn’t be hard to put her shield up in the face of this. She heard gunfire behind her- the loud, rapid staccato indicating that it was Remi doing the shooting... except that it was coming from behind her.

A smaller man came running up behind her, heavily favoring his right leg as he broke for cover a few yards away from Ren, a fallen tree. Fire kicked up dirt around him, but he managed to avoid any harm as he made it to his destination. Remi slid to a halt beside him, stopping at a crouch behind a wooden fence covered with a thin sheet of plate metal.

”Fancy meeting you here, Van Pey!”

”Not like we work together!” The other man shouted back. 

It was only a long  few seconds before Pyrrha made it over to Ren, ducking behind her shield and readying her rifle again. As little as she wanted to shoot anyone, it was becoming apparent she would have to.

”Are you alright?” Ren asked, looking pointedly at Pyrrha’s shoulder.

”It’s nothing time and Aura can’t fix, if mine will start working!””

”Yours is malfunctioning as well?” Ren asked. “I noticed I felt a bit off after the last near-miss. Normally my Aura would have absorbed it, but nothing happened. It was working fine earlier.”

”Same here. Never mind that, have you seen Jaune and Nora?”

”Nora’s back with the others, but I’ve had  no signs of Jaune.” Ren peeked out of cover for a moment. “What was it you said about pink, naked ones? There’s one going near the treeline to my far left.”

There was a dull chatter from around Ren’s ear, and another bang.

”That did it. So, Jaune is most likely with the others. Should we go back, or wait here?”

”It sounds like they need us more here,” Pyrrha replied. “Declan said they’re going to try and destroy the jammer that’s keeping their airship grounded.”

”Right. And where is Declan right now?”

”He and another soldier just moved up from the gas station.” Sure enough, when Pyrrha turned to make sure, Declan has joined Remi and ‘Van Pey’, and the three seemed to be hatching a plan. Suddenly, Remi turned and started shouting over to Pyrrha and Ren. 

“Back up! Back up! Move back!”

Pyrrha turned her head back forward and noticed something she hadn’t seen before- a rather large group of enemy combatants sprinting full speed at them, some carrying only guns, others with light armor and what appeared to be batons or swords of some kind.

”Well I suppose that answers our question.” Ren was immediately turning on his heels, firing Stormflower behind his back, beckoning for Pyrrha to follow. No sooner did she turn around and start running did she find herself staring down the sight of a pistol.

Adam’s pistol. 

* * *

 

Adam fired, the bullet arcing just over the stupefied redhead who seemed indignant that he’d point his gun in her direction. Well, if she wanted to be a tosser, that wasn’t his problem. The target-rich environment in front of him, though? Much more so.

Once the redhead realized she hadn’t been and wouldn’t be targeted did she start running again, at a speed Adam himself would be hard pressed to match. Hamilton’s little fairy was even faster- he was already headed for the line.

“Sarge! Declan, Wes, and Remi are still out there!” Jerry shouted over, looking over a fallen soldier with a sucking chest wound, trying to see if there was anything he could do for him. It didn’t look like it.

”Are they daft?”

”More like ‘really pissed at that jammer!’”

”Shit!” With that, Adam came out of cover again, fanning the hammer of his pistol and dropping one of the Stun Lancers chasing the kids. “Who’s coming next up on the line?”

”Roderick and Phil!”

”Bang on, then. Once we wait out this wave we’ll try and push the line up! Where’s the other two kids?”

”Hiiiiiiiii!” Nora shouted from behind a barricade, grenade launcher in hand.

”Right here!” Jaune was right next to her, his shield propped on the barrier and... nothing else.

”You gonna actually fight?” Jerry asked.

”I can’t hit them at this range!”

”Oh, so THIS ONE doesn’t have a gun! Lovely!” Adam shouted. “Jeremy, who’s the dead man?”

”Wade!” he replied.

”Well, fuck me sideways. Give me his gun.”

Jerry kicked the solid black rifle over to Adam, who kicked it to Jaune. “Try not to shoot yourself you pillock.”

Ren and Pyrrha clambered over the barricade, the latter immediately bringing her rifle to her shoulder and opening fire, while Ren took one of his handguns and continued to call targets for Hamilton. Jaune had grabbed Wade’s gun, but he hadn’t fired a single shot yet. This DEEPLY annoyed Adam, especially now that the Stun Lancers were actually within spitting distance of their defensive line.

”Aw, hell!” Jack shouted, attempting to mow down the lion’s share with his cannon, scoring precious few kills before the baton-wielding ADVENT were literally getting in his face. Adam whipped a second pistol out from his belt and shot one of the lancers harassing him, before facing front and doing the same to a soldier charging him. Jerry continued firing, not even flinching as a Lancer that landed next to him was immediately pinned to the wall by Phillipe’s cannon fire. Another Lancer was met with a faceful of shield as Pyrrha threw the disc at him, cracking his visor wide open and knocking him out cold, but leaving her shield out in the open. Color Adam _fucking_ impressed by that one.

”It’s still not working!” Pyrrha shouted to Ren, drawing a concerned look from both Jerry and Roderick, the latter of whom immediately sprung into action, planting his boot over the barricade and into the face of a Lancer while he was in mid swing, before pumping a burst into his chest.

”What’s not working? The magnet thing?”  Jerry asked, popping out of cover and dropping two of the Lancers with precise shots. “Son of a!”

”Well, don’t you look stupid, Jerry?” Jack asked, sneering from behind his cannon.

”It was my idea!” Roderick retorted. “Looks like they’re slowing down! We should push up!”

”Right. Declan! How are you goin’?” Adam called out, turning on his earpiece. 

_“We’re moving on up! No idea how long it’ll take with all these MECs in the way. Could use a diversion!”_

Adam groaned “Well, you got one. Let’s go!” 

Adam hopped the barricade first, a burst of ADVENT fire just missing him as he rolled to a knee, firing a single shot into the visor of his assailant. 

He was starting to slow down. Not good.

Jerry hopped over the barricade after him, as did Roderick, the kids, and a couple of other youngbloods, Watanabe and Brady. Adam motioned for them to follow, headed back for the fence line Ren and Pyrrha had first stopped at. ADVENT seemed to have a slowly-advancing rear-line, as they were being shot at rather ferociously the moment they got out of cover. Brady was almost immediately dropped, struck in the head by one of the MEC’s Mag Cannons. Hamilton’s rifle reported rapidly, each shot sailing into the ADVENT lines and providing limited relief. Though there were less enemies immediately on the ground by a long shot, there were plenty of transports arriving.

Adam’s back slammed forcefully into a tree as he hunkered down, intent on weathering out the storm here until Declan and Company blew up the jammer. Holstering his pistol and pulling up his rifle, he stepped out of cover for a moment to try and line up a shot, eventually training on an ADVENT Commander looking rather intently at him, and pointing vigorously.

_Hello to you, too._

A single shot to the chest dropped the Commander, but Adam suddenly realized why the ADVENT was pointing. Twin MECs leaned forward, the massive grenade tubes on their backs racking a round, and it most certainly wasn’t going to be smoke.

”Incoming!”

”Crap, crap, crap!” Jerry dropped to a knee behind the fence, covering his face with his forearm, as did most of the men in the line- except for Roderick. 

Adam, much like Roderick, were instead focused on the fact that the grenades were currently floating in midair. 

“What. The fuck. Is that?”

”It’s workin’ now!” Roderick shouted, grinning ear to ear. 

The grenades exploded harmlessly in midair, with Pyrrha, arm outstretched, looking rather pleased with herself. “For now at least. I don’t know how much longer- my Aura is extremely weak, and I can feel it draining!””

”Well let’s take advantage of it!” Adam replied. “Can you do anything to those MECs?”

”I can try!”

”I need execution!”

Pyrrha concentrated on the MECs, who in turn were looking at her. Not an ideal situation. 

“Draw their fire!” Adam shouted, and Watanabe immediately complied, rushing blindly out of cover to try and present himself as a target, the MECs immediately turning to and firing at him. To the shock of everyone, including ADAM, every shot missed as Watanabe dropped down behind a concrete wall, sending Adam a thumbs up.

Out of the Corner of his eye, Adam looked back over at the MEC units, noting that their grenade launchers were slowly warping and twisting on their backs, facing one another. When the robots went to fire another set of grenades, there was a sudden fireball, parts and shrapnel flying in every direction.

”That did it!”

”Heck yeah it did!” Jerry shouted. “Nice one!”

 _”That was some slick shit,”_ Hamilton agreed.

 _”HOLY SHIT, Sergeant! I don’t know what the hell that was, but I am FULLY IN FAVOR of you doing it again!”_ Remi shouted. _“Alright, looks like we’ve got an opening!”_

Adam looked over at the kids, Nora grinning ear to ear, and Ren giving Pyrrha a slightly more subdued grin, while Jaune went full in for a shield bash of some sort. Looks like they figured they were out of the woods. Adam wasn’t exactly going to go that far, but whether they were trouble or not, he couldn’t say now that they were just dead weight. He definitely was going to hold off on shooting them, that much was for sure. 

They had their ticket for now.

As more ADVENT transports headed for ground, he could make out Declan and company making their way to the jammer. Moment of truth.

* * *

 

Lawrence’s rifle rested against the rocks as he waited for the next transport to unload its (non)-human cargo. The operation was going... unusually well. Only two or three KIA. This was definitely a better showing than recent months.

What was it his old CO had said? 1 was a tragedy, 1000 was a tactical defeat... something like that.

Whatever. Commander jumping off the transport.

Commander going back into the transport, sans the majority of his head. Tragic.

He’d seen that shit the redheaded alien/kid/person/entity pulled off with the ... whatever that was. Some fucking Jedi shit. Pretty interesting stuff. Definitely useful. Was she a Sike? Didn’t have the purple eyes or white hair, so didn’t seem likely. 

Leave that shit to the labcoats. Wasn’t his place.

Remi, Declan, and Wes went in on the jammer. Good. Someone needed to hit that thing before he fell the fuck asleep on this rock. Wasn’t as fun when they didn’t shoot back at him.

Another MEC standing by the jammer. He fired. The robot fell over, now missing a CPU. 

A Sectoid looked at him, dead in the eye with those beady black glass balls that were doing a really shitty imitation of eyes. It fired its little wrist pistol at him, and missed entirely. The shot whizzed harmlessly over his head, and he returned fire. He didn’t miss. 

An ADVENT trooper duo standing near turned to fire on him, one of them immediately catching an axe to the back, the other getting his back turned to Swiss by assault rifle fire. Remi was the first to cross the threshold into his LOS.

_”Much obliged, mon ami! Now we can take this thing out and go home!”_

_”Don’t get cocky now,”_ Van Pey warned. _“We’re stuck all the way behind enemy lines.”_

”Relax,” Lawrence assured them. “I’ll make sure you guys make it back. I got you in my sights.”

Remi sent him a thumbs up before turning his attention to the jammer. He readied a grenade, as did Van Pey and Declan. The three of them threw their explosives, one after the other, the ensuing explosion ripping the jammer to shreds in a ball of green and orange fire.

 “Nice.”

 _”Get fucked! Jammer’s down!”_ Van Pey shouted. 

 _“Excellent work, Avenger’s systems are coming back online. Get back aboard so we can evac,”_ Bradford ordered. 

 _“Alright, lads, lasses, and freaks of nature, we’re not getting out of here till those three get back, so get ready to lay down some lead. Who’s on the deck?”_ Adam looked around the line, then back up at Lawrence, giving him a sly grin and a nod.

_”Philippe here. We’re good. Come on back.”_

Lawrence went back to his rifle, aiming at a landing transport near the retreating trio, and fired, drawing the attention of those on board as a Lancer went sailing out of the craft with a noticeably emptier head. Another shot as the ship landed, and a trooper attempting to fire on Declan was dropped. 

Click.

Lawrence dropped the magazine out of his rifle, and reached for another, only to find he’d finally run out of bullets.

”Shit. Out of ammo, Sergeant. I’m headed back in.”

_”Thanks for the work, Lawrence. See you inside.”_

____________

By the time Declan, Remi, and Wesley had made it back to the line, ADVENT was starting to arrive in force. In a fit of organized chaos, XCOM’s men on the ground were attempting to beat a fighting retreat.

Jerry noted that executing that particular strategy was proving to be quite difficult, as almost everyone not named Menace or Hitman Team was just ready to get the heck out of dodge. It was a long run, with little cover, a lot of enemy fire, and a lot to worry about. Jerry was a bit envious of these new kids, because all of them, especially Ren, ran like freaking gazelles. Pyrrha bolted past him like a red bullet while BACKPEDALING for crying out loud, and Ren was even faster than that. Maybe it was just all the med gear that was so heavy, come to think of it.

Jerry tumbled over a fence, with Jaune and Roderick following right behind him, the latter ducking behind Jaune to take advantage of his shield as he did so. Despite being a sweaty, exhausted mess, Roderick looked fit to be tied.

”Man, that was some shit!” the big man exclaimed, grinning ear to ear at Jerry. “I think I’m starting to like these kids!”

”Thanks! I guess.” Jaune smiled nervously from behind his shield. It was obvious he was NOT enjoying the combat experience.

”Yeah, they’re doin’ good,” Jerry agreed, reloading his rifle. “Don’t really favor putting them in the line of fire, but it gets results.”

”Alright, let’s keep going!” Roderick slapped Jaune on the back of his chestplate, taking off into a sprint as Jaune turned to follow, putting his shield up on his back, leaving Jerry to clamber after them, mag bolts whizzing just past his head.

Sometimes, every once in a while, he just really, really hated this job.

It was obvious Jaune wasn’t huge on the whole sprinting thing, as he was starting to slow down substantially. While Roderick didn’t concern himself with it, still dead running towards the landing platform, Jerry hung back, trying to make light of the likely quite stressful events.

”Don’t do this often?” Jerry asked.

”Not really!” Jaune replied, his voice matching his evident exhaustion.

”Come on, just a little further and we’re home free.”

After maybe a few more yards, the platform, and by extension, the two Grenadiers pouring fire from behind it, were within spitting distance, and Jerry pushed Jaune over the barricade.

”Who in God’s name invited the children?” Phil asked, a bit annoyed.

“I told you the fucking aliens were crazy! I saw ALL OF THAT SHIT, and it was AWESOME! I still say we should kill them, but THAT WAS COOL,” Jack gushed, pointing at Jaune as he lowered his cannon. “Can you do that shit?”

”No!”

”Good, we’ve got one we can afford to sacrifice! Jerry, throw him back over!”

”Just shut up and start closing the doors!” Phil shouted, backing up slowly as Jerry pulled Jaune to his feet and ran inside the Avenger’s loading bay. Once they and the Grenadiers loaded in, the doors began to close more rapidly, and the engines of the Avenger fires up, causing the airship to shake rapidly.

”Jesus CHRIST that was intense!” Declan shouted. 

“If I can go the rest of my cursed days on this shithole of a planet without doing that again, it’ll still be too soon!” Remi agreed. 

“Can it and get your shit squared away, we’re taking off!” Lawrence ordered. “Come on, it’s not holiday yet!”

Jerry took a moment to sit down, grabbing his helmet and letting his head get some proper ventilation for a change.  Jaune attempted to sit down next to him, only to fall flat on his ass and end up laid out on his back.

Jerry couldn’t help but bust out laughing at that.

 

 

 


	5. Clearing The Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long conversations about what’s good and what isn’t good are really good. We good?

Well, Roderick didn’t know what he was expecting to happen after that.

Currently, he, Adam, Murphy, Jerry, Alex, Declan, Remi, Tygan, Shen, Bradford, and The Commander were huddled around her office, and the Chief Engineer looked pretty miffed.

Everybody was looking solely at Roddy.

”Okay,” he started, his tone even. “Let me just start by saying... nothing went wrong and you cannot blame me for this.”

”He’s got a point there,” Jerry agreed.

”Yep.” Murph too.

”Stealing materiel from Engineering is not going to fly, period.” Bradford gave Roderick a stern look, before immediately looked over at Shen. “But you can’t say that it didn’t work out in our favor. This time, anyway.”

”Indeed,” Tygan agreed. “We have a powerful new asset at our disposal, capable of things that most would deem impossible- the possibilities are astounding, especially if I were to study how they perform such feats firsthand.”

”Hold on,” Adam interrupted. “Pyrrha said it ‘wasnt working right.’ Their... ‘powers’ or whatever they are are inconsistent. We can’t count on them in a combat situation. Hell, one of them even says they don’t have those powers- fact check me on that, Jerry.”

”Yep. Jaune doesn’t have any special gimmicks.”

”However...” Declan cut in, loud and proud, “these kiddos have one thing going in their favor in the meantime! They have... drumroll... COMBAT EXPERIENCE.”

“Gotta admit, if they fight those things that we saw in the cave on a daily basis, they’re probably pretty badass in a fight.” Alexios nodded his agreement, looking over to the Commander. “I got an idea.”

”Let’s hear it.”

”I say we take them along for the Tower Op. Now, hear me out on this. I know, this is sensitive stuff, but it’s also going to be in a closed environment with heavy enemy security- judging by the fact the kids were targeted, it’s a good bet that they’re not infiltrators, but if the security systems target them too? Almost a certainty that they’re not. On top of that, if their powers work...”

”With all due respect, Corporal, that idea is absolute shite, and I’m shutting it down now,” Adam interrupted. “We absolutely WILL not compromise Shen’s safety. Even if the kids aren’t hostiles I don’t trust them. They’re children.”

”Children that apparently have experience fighting things that are literally monsters, Adam. If you’re so worried, I’m not suggesting THEY and the ones to escort Shen. I’m saying we all should be.”

”We’ve never run with a team bigger than 6, Commander,” Murphy spoke up.

”Doesn’t mean we can’t try. Shen, three of our guys, and the kids,” Roderick suggested. “Only two more warm bodies than we’re used to.”

”I think we’re ignoring something important, guys.” Jerry stopped them, looking over at Lily. “Chief. You cool with all this?”

”I’d be more cool with it if I had backup besides them, yeah. I don’t know what to make of them yet, but seeing their tech in action would probably help me with studying it.”

”Most definitely,” Tygan agreed. “Commander, I believe this course of action may be the best one. The children will be able to build up a sense of trust with our operatives, and vice versa, while we get valuable research data- plus, the extra hands to protect Chief Engineer Shen in the event the mission goes unexpectedly awry.”

The Commander nodded slowly, looking around the room. “Alright. Anyone NOT in favor of this?”

”I’m absolutely against it,” Adam spoke up.

”No from me,” Remi followed.

”I gotta say, it’s not the best idea I’ve heard, either,” Roderick agreed, much to the shock of those in the room.

”Well? Any specifics?”

”Ma’am, I don’t think they warrant this sort of trust this soon, if ever at all. This was SUPPOSED to be a temporary arrangement until we found a place for them to stay while we get them home.”

”That was before we found out they had superpowers, Adam. And trust me, I’m gonna have three of our best on this one to make absolutely sure there’s no bullshit. Remi?”

“You’re literally asking the fireteam to babysit a bunch of kids.”

”From what I’ve seen, mate, they don’t need babysitting,” Murph corrected him.

”Noted. It’s not ideal, but the fact is, these ‘kids’ have abilities that not even the aliens can imitate. We need to see if we can figure out a way to make that work for our own. Rod?”

”I don’t feel comfortable putting teenagers in the middle of a possible hot zone.”

”Then why did you give them the weapons earlier, Private?”

Roderick opened his mouth to respond, but stopped dead as he realized he had no answer to that. “... shit.”

”Alright then. By the way, grab a sword from the armory, Ranger. You’ve earned it. As for the operation, I’m sending you, McAuley, and Hall to deal with the escort part of the mission. We’re gonna give you a bit of R&R after that last scuffle, plus time for Tygan to possibly get the new prototypes out of the door, but by next week, we’re gonna be going hardcore. As for now, I want you to get those kids together and teach them how we operate. You’ve got a good 5 days to get them up to speed. I’m going to observe it from afar and create something resembling combat doctrine for them to work with after this operation. In the meantime, Shen will take a few days to get a look at their weapons before the operation. Then, on D-Day, we’ll ask ‘em to pitch in. If they do, great, if they refuse, we’ll just go with our guys, as was the original plan. Once it’s over, we’ll see about Tygan possibly applying their tech for our use. Any questions?” The Commander looked around the room, seeking further objections.

None were raised.

”Alright. Good luck, men. Keep me posted.”

* * *

 

The first thing Sophie noticed about Adam when he reentered the dormitory was that he was PISSED.

”Sir?”

”Not in a talking mood, Thomas.”

Lawrence pushed down his sunglasses, slivers of brown only just visible as he glared at Adam. “You made your bed, Jones.”

”I made my bed? I made it? You listen here, Yank, I’ve had about e-fuckin’-nough of this bloody farce we’re calling an organization at this point. We’re seriously considering putting a bunch of underaged kids in a combat zone just because Roderick did something retarded and it managed to not explode in our faces. We are literally at the peak of idiocy right now.”

“You ask me, peak idiocy is you still trying to swing your dick around when Pyrrha alone is capable of theoretically bricking this ship.”

”Oh, what the hell is she gonna do, Lawrence?”

”Adam. There are four of them, and one of you. Let’s assume that you have Jack and Philippe on your side, since they also don’t really like these kids. Now it’s three on 4. One of them, as I just stated, can likely brick this ship, and at the very least bend steel and probably rip your guns out of your hands. She is also bigger than any woman and the majority of the men on this boat. That’s just ONE of them. I don’t even know what superpowers the other three have, but they have tech that makes us look like we’re still in the ‘fix bayonets and load your muskets’ era. You’d get your ass whupped. Now, let’s say there’s a fistfight for some reason. Two of them have size on you. All of them are trained to fight monsters, so it would stand to reason they know how to fight with their hands. Jack is a complete lunatic who has no idea how to actually fight, Phil’s slow as a dump truck, and you’re getting old. You would get your ass whupped, and then Bradford would get pissed and bust your ass. I can already tell that this is gonna cause a fight if it keeps going, so I suggest you just keep your mouth shut and roll with it. I, for one, find these children quite useful.”

”The fact that you apparently used one for bait nonwithstanding,” Sophie cut in.

”Not bait. Spotter. If I wanted to use him for bait I’d have told him to stand up. He’s good at it, might ask Central if I can drag him out again on our next op. Quiet too, unlike the rest of you.”

Adam groaned aloud, kicking the impromptu bedroll for Jaune, the bag-pillow tumbling towards the door. “We were already having enough trouble just letting anyone into this bloody organization, look at Declan! Look at Duvalier! Look at YOU!” He gestured at Sophie, which DEFINITELY caught Lawrence’s full attention.

”You watch what you say,” Lawrence started. 

“He does have a point,” Sophie conceded quietly. “Ever since I got on board our standards have been pretty low.”

”We’re desperate for men. You volunteered. What were we gonna do, tell you to go fuck yourself?” Lawrence asked, before pointing at Adam. “Don’t fucking start.”

”We aren’t a bed and breakfast, Lawrence, and if we took on every homeless child that wandered up to our door we’d have to open up a primary in the GTS.”

”Sophie’s done more than pull her weight since she got here, and so has everyone else, Adam. You complain about not having soldiers? Look at me, Adam. There are no soldiers _left._ Most of us are too old to fight- I know for a fact if I had to do what the Rangers or Grenadiers do, I’d break something out there. Murphy’s continued exertion should have given him a coronary by now, and I still don’t know how he does it. We are the exceptions to the general rule, and 3 men isn’t a resistance, it’s a gang. We have to take what we can get. Vaguely alien children included, if a bit cautiously. Besides- it’s a temporary arrangement. We study them, see if we can co-opt their tech, and then we send them home.”

“I’m trying to understand why you’re paranoid, sir, I really am,” Sophie followed, frowning, “but we’re not going to go anywhere without helping hands. If these kids were infiltrators, why would they have told us they were aliens? Why would they have brought up that they’re in an unfamiliar place, and why would they have come out there and helped us without anyone even doing so much as asking? Just because Roddy gave them the weapons and Jerry gave them armor doesn’t mean that they had to fight. They chose to. They stuck their necks out for us. One of them got shot for us.”

”Shoulder wound.”

”Adam, I don’t think it bloody well matters where she got shot. None of them have bitched or complained about this situation even once. They’ve done what we asked, and asked for a pittance in return- just a way to get home. And I think, personally, it would do you some good to practice some fucking Christian charity and suck it up for a few weeks until we get them home.”

Silence filled the Menace team bunks, broken only by a long, amused whistle from the doorway. Adam twitched ever so slightly, and he turned to the door. Declan smirked back.

”Hey, boss. Guess what?”

”What do you FUCKING want?”

”We get to help Hitman prep the kids for the operation.”

”I’m sorry, I think you misspoke.”

”Nope.” Declan’s smirk only grew wider. “If you would come with me, we can go ahead and get this over with.”

”Oh, fuck me. It’s just us and Hitman?”

”Yep. Commander’s gonna be making sure it all goes smoothly.”

”About as smooth as sandpaper, let’s go.”

Declan stepped out of the doorway as Adam stormed out, following the foul-tempered Welshman out and down the hall.

Sophie looked over at Lawrence once they’d gone, frankly, she was feeling a bit  rocked by that exchange. 

“You’re a help,” Lawrence assured her. “You’re doin’ everything you can, and we can’t ask more than that.”

”But you need more than a homeless teenager who can barely shoot straight, right?”

Lawrence sighed.

”Yeah. Yeah, we do. But that’s no fault of yours. You just got here what, a month ago? Keep training, keep giving it time. As much as it may not seem like it, we all have each others’ backs up here. Even us old boys, the ones who have been through a lot, we watch out for everyone. Not just each other, the new blood, the kids like you. We all work together.”

”Then why is Adam having such a problem with the new ones? It’s not like we’ve given them free reign. They’re constantly being monitored, we don’t let them into sensitive areas of the ship. What’s the deal?”

”To be fair, Sophie, the last group of extraterrestrial individuals who came to Earth killed his friends and took over the world. You think we’re being cautious? To him, it probably looks like we’re rolling out the red carpet.”

* * *

 

”Okay, hold still for me.”

Jaune wasn’t really digging the infirmary. It was dark as all get out in there, not to mention a bit claustrophobic, and unnaturally sterile- okay, most hospitals were like that, but the point stood. It was creepy. Thankfully JNPR’s visit wasn’t a long one. Jerry had insisted on making sure they were okay after the fight. Nora, Ren, and himself were fine, but apparently Pyrrha got hit. Jerry’d waved off his concern, said it was just a flesh wound, but still, she was his partner. There was a sense he’d failed at some personal responsibility.

”I’m very, very confused,” Jerry muttered. “Nothing’s broken, the round seems to have not gone all the way through, and it doesn’t look like you got shot. Entry wound is too small, and it’s already scabbing.”

There was a slight crackle of reddish-black light, and Jerry leaned back, looking up at his ‘patient’. Pyrrha raised an eyebrow.

”That. It happened again. What is it?”

”My Aura is evidently malfunctioning. I don’t know why. Ever since we came through that portal, all of our Auras have been very spotty.”

”Okay, but what IS an Aura?” Jerry asked. “Some kind of healing factor?”

”It’s the manifestation of our soul in the physical world- it allows us to heal our injuries, take less damage in combat, and also acts as a power source for our Semblances. It’s what makes us suited for combat against the Grimm-“

”We can take a beatin’ and dish one out, too!” Nora finished.

Jerry made an indecipherable noise as he continued to examine the wound.

”You probably don’t believe me, do you?” Pyrrha asked.

”Normally, I would say no. But you got shot three hours ago. Right now, it looks like you got stabbed with a pen knife a week ago. You can bend forks and twist metal like it’s nothing. Pyrrha, if you told me Jesus Christ was coming back right now, I’d already be saying my Hail Mary.”

Now, everyone just looked confused.

”Who’s Jesus?” Jaune asked.

”Dead guy that people think is the son of God. It’s an Earth thing. I don’t put much stock in it, but we have a priest on the ship.” Jerry stood up, walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a length of wrapping, tossing it to Pyrrha. “Wrap that up, please. I dunno if your Aura protects you from infection, but I’d rather not take a chance. By the way... I’m not supposed to be the one to tell you this, but our people are really, really interested in you. What you can do, what your tech is like, all that. I just wanted to warn you that there’s a lot of stuff that’s gonna get thrown at you really soon, and nobody is gonna think less of you for saying ‘no’.”

”I would not be so certain about that,” Pyrrha replied.

”Oh?”

”My friends and I have been threatened repeatedly by some of ‘your people’ just for being lost. I’d wager that if we didn’t help, such treatment would only get worse. I’m tired of the hostility- if you can’t trust us, why do you want us to fight for you?”

”First of all,” Jerry started, closing the cabinet, “I trust you. Second of all, Command trusts you, albeit under watch. There are others who are batting for you, for different reasons, but a lot of people are pretty paranoid. There’s a reason for it, though, and it’s not because you’re just lost. You’re aliens.”

”I mean, to us, you guys are aliens, technically,” Jaune countered.

”That would be right, but you treat us like humans. Hey, Jaune, those ‘Grimm’ you guys fight? Are there some that can disguise themselves as humans?”

”Not that I know of.”

”Yeah. Wait till you meet a Faceless. It always throws the rookies for a loop. Or kills them.”

”If you don’t mind me asking,” Pyrrha interrupted again, stepping off the bed she’d been resting against while Jerry looked her over, “why are you so afraid of aliens? I’ve heard people talking about ‘sectoids’ and ‘ADVENT’ and ‘aliens’, but nothing really conclusive. I can somewhat infer from the paranoia surrounding our arrival that something’s happened with said aliens before.”

”Like, an alien invasion, or something?” Jaune asked.

”Bingo.” Jerry pointed at Jaune. “About 20 years ago, back when I was just a toddler, aliens attacked Earth. Humans fought back, and we lost. Hard. They rebuilt the world in their image, basically subjugated humanity, all the while preaching that they ‘liberated us’. Life sucked before they showed up, but at least we had the opportunity to make it better. It was a broken world, yeah, but it was ours. Now, we’re fighting to take it back.”

”That sounds like a difficult proposition,” Ren spoke up.

”Some think it impossible. I don’t think we got the memo.”

”So, you’re all soldiers?” Jaune asked. 

“No. Not real soldiers, anyway. We’re closer to a paramilitary. Semi-formal training, made mostly of misfits, runaways, and volunteers. I was a college med student before I joined up. Roderick was an actor. Remi was a tattoo artist. Murphy is one of the few actual soldiers here. We’re all just mad enough at the aliens that we were willing to grab guns and say ‘screw it, let’s do it,’ and try to take back our planet.”

”That’s pretty brave of you guys.”

”Some call it stupid.”

”Well, we don’t!” Nora spoke up, grinning. “Pretty badass, actually!”

”It takes a lot of bravery to fight a war against impossible odds,” Ren agreed. 

“Well, hopefully we win it. I don’t know what’s gonna happen if we don’t.” 

Jerry shifted awkwardly for a moment, looking over at JNPR from his place by the cabinet. Jaune wondered why he was so uneasy- he said he trusted them.

”You really shouldn’t be involved in this.”

”But we are,” Jaune replied, “and were going to do what we can to help. It’s the least we can do.”

”I dunno about everyone else, but, I appreciate it. Anyways, can you do me a favor and follow me? Now that you’re cleared, the boss lady wants us to talk to you as a team. Adam’s gonna be there, so... prepare yourself.”

”Oh, joy.” Pyrrha flipped her hair off her shoulder, narrowing her eyes over at Nora.

”Yeah, not the legs, I knooooooow,” Nora moaned. “I never get to have any fun!”

* * *

 

Remi Duvalier did not know why in the hell Assassin Team got a call for this meetup with the kids, but he had a few ideas, considering Adam was the one who called, and he called specifically for Remi and Phil. As much as Remi didn’t trust those new kids, he trusted Adam even less. Phil didn’t share his sentiment.

”Duvalier?”

”Oui?”

The big man, for once, had his helmet off, revealing his stark blonde hair and thin beard, over a boyish face that didn’t match his thundering voice at all. “What do you make of all this? You haven’t said much.” 

“It makes no difference to me who or what they are. I just want them gone,” Remi answered. He was only being honest- these kids were a liability. More mouths to feed, more hands to keep busy, more backs to watch. He had enough on his plate, especially now that, with Wade and Brady both dying in rapid succession, he was the leader of Assassin Team. 

He did not need these kids.

”As interesting as their abilities may be, I agree. It’s too much of a security risk to keep them aboard.”

Phil was unofficially the Sergeant At Arms of the reformed XCOM, keeping the peace and maintaining order among the rank. Considering that the man was 6’7” he managed it quite excellently. Nobody picked a fight with him until that girl came aboard and bowed up to him. Remi had to respect that. Anyone who just casually strolled up on day one and stood toe to toe with a survivor of the Nutcracker* had brass genitals, a death wish, no regard for their safety, or all 3. Even if this ‘Pyrrha’ had no idea where the Nutcracker was, he could infer that she at least had the cast-metal ovaries down pat.

Well. Now she had to deal with two of them.

”Yeah. I don’t see a reason to throw them into the line of fire when we can’t even trust them with their own weapons. Even if that metalbending shit was fucking amazing.”

”I saw the explosion. She really bent the MECs up?”

”Yep. Turned their grenades on them. It was something else.”

”Maybe they’re more useful- and dangerous- than we thought.”

”That appears to be the point of our little escapade, Philly. To determine which of those two they are.”

”I’d say both.”

”Fair point.”

Hitman Team was already in the GTS, In various states of combat readiness, as were the four kids. While the kids acted indifferent to their arrival, Hitman was far more opinionated.

”Oh, hell,” Alexios muttered. “So, who called the killjoys?”

”I didn’t do nothin’, Officer,” Roderick whined, throwing up his hands in faux-surrender.

”Oh, shut up. Adam called us,” Remi explained. 

“News to me.” Murph cut his eyes at the smaller of the two Assassin members. “Why?”

”Beats me senseless,” Remi answered. “I just know we’re explaining the situation and teaching the kids how we operate. So, when’s Adam getting here?”

”No idea.”

Remi sighed, looking over at the kids- the first thing he noticed was ‘Pyrrha’, the girl with the shoulder wound. She appeared to be able to move the shoulder just fine.

”You appear to be doing just fine,” he said.

”I am, thank you.”

Remi ‘hmph’ed before turning back to the door, waiting for Large and In Charge, and sure enough, there he was. His signature stocking cap was nowhere to be found, leaving the wild blonde mop beneath it free and unobstructed. Declan, behind him, had also gone without his usually ever-present Bears cap, and he’d shaved something fierce, leaving only a thin stubble around that ridiculous mustache.

”Adam,” Murphy greeted him.

”Murph. We got the stuff set up?”

”Ready when you are.”

”Well, I look about ready, don’t I?”

”Don’t cop a mood with me, son. Alex?”

Alexios nodded, fiddling with HAV-C as the kids watched, somewhat amused.

”Is that some kind of drone?” 'Jaune’ asked, looking the most interested of the four.

”Yep. This here is HAV-C. He’s one of our two Gremlin field drones, the other being M3R-C, Jerry’s med drone. Say hi, HAV-C.”

The drone chirped loudly, blinking it’s lights at Jaune before turning around and turning on some sort of display. The Lost Towers zoomed into view, complete with a diagram of the building up to the last floor Recon had gotten to, which is to say, not nearly far enough. Murph stepped toward the projection, cracking his knuckles.

”A’right. So, this is Lost Towers. Formerly an ADVENT R&D facility. According to our intel it was used during the MEC development to build and house the ADVENT mechanized units. We’ve found no signs of life in the facility itself, but there’s a signal hitting the Avenger that appears to be coming from the top of the tower, up here.”

Murph pointed at the top floors of the tower, then down at a platform jutting from the side of the building. “This here is the landing pad where they loaded the MECs for transport out of the factory facilities, and sent them to the line. We’re gonna be inserting here.” Another tap, and the faces of Jerry, Murphy, Alexios, and Chief Engie Shen came into view. 4 empty slots remained, each marked with one of the childrens’ names. “Once we land, we’re going to go inside, reccie the site, then head up to the source of the signal, eliminating the automated security as we go. We have exactly one shot at this op- the systems are ablative, and they seem to be operating just fine, so if we don’t knock them out now, it’ll be almost impossible to knock them out in the future. The facility’s learned from our previous scouting runs and is locking off our options.”

”There may be some sort of base AI running the system,” Alexios added. “I used to design Dumb AI for ADVENT, wouldn’t surprise me if it was being put to use here.”

”Right. So, here’s the plan,” Murphy continued, the map behind him condensing to just the portraits. “Kids, you will be sticking to Shen and Alexios like rubber on glue. They’re going to be busy hitting the defenses and getting us into the building’s systems, while me and Jerry bust up anything that gets in the way. It’s looking like a long, drawn out affair, but between eight people, it should be manageable, especially once we get you up to speed on training. That’s why Adam’s here.”

Adam nodded. “Central’s appointed me to  drag you lot into understanding our combat doctrine, and where you fit in it for this operation- long story short, you don’t. Stay out of the fucking way, and protect Shen. That’s your directive. Simple, right?”

The kids nodded, the redhead with unnaturally read hair locking eyes with Adam while she did it. Some kind of power play or something? Remi didn’t know, but it certainly was ballsy.

”Alright, so,” Adam continued. “I’ve been asked to test your combat effectiveness as well, make sure you’re up to par. Part of that is checking your hand to hand skills.”

Pyrrha continued to stare down Adam, who didn’t break their staring contest even as he pointed to Jaune. “You get to play with Declan, John-Boy, Remi and Phil will pair off with Ren and Nora, and I-“ He pointed then at Pyrrha, smirking. “- get to wipe that look off your face.”

Pyrrha immediately stood up, revealing to Remi that it wasn’t a combat hallucination- she was actually six feet tall, at least, and without the armor, she still looked like a damn street fighter. She had better biceps alone than half the men on the ship, legs that looked carved from solid rock, and overall just looked like she was ready to whup Adam’s ass. To Adam’s credit, despite having to chin up at the young woman, he didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the size difference, and Remi seriously doubted the age difference would mean shit.

”Are you sure you need to test us, or is this some sort of attempt to ‘haze’ us?”

”Pardon me, Redwood, but I didn’t recall you having any right to question me.”

”I don’t know, you’ve been acting rather threatening to my team, and now you’re saying you’re going to ‘wipe this look off my face’. It doesn’t sound like this is just an examination to you, Sergeant. If you want to take your paranoid anger out on Jaune, myself, and my friends, go ahead. And when I knock you flat on your back, maybe you’ll show us some respect for a change, no?”

Pyrrha proceeded to smile innocently down at him. “Sorry if that was rude.”

Adam’s smirk morphed into a cat-like grin. “Uh-huh. Sit down. Philly, you and the kid are up first. Try not to break him.”

Philippe walked over to one side, motioning over at Ren. “Come on.”

Remi wasn’t sure what to expect, but there was one thing he could reasonably infer from the heated look Pyrrha was giving Adam, the determined glare Nora gave him, Ren’s seeming peace with going up against his giant compatriot, and Declan’s creepy leering at an extremely nervous Jaune.

This was gonna be _bad._

Once Ren and Phil had squared off, it looked pretty one-sided. Ren was a small, wiry lad, a twig compared to Phil. Then again, he seemed to be on that oriental martial arts bullshit, so maybe he had some whack-ass secret techniques or some shit to smack the big man with.

Well, he was about to find out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Nutcracker is an ADVENT max-security prison facility in the French Alps, known for its high mortality rate. 
> 
> XCOM Operatives Philippe Richard, Remi Duvalier, Emma Leroy, Wade Duplessis, and Cody ‘Root’ Creel were formerly incarcerated in The Nutcracker, but broke out in the 2032 Riot.
> 
>  
> 
> BONUS INFO: Gremlin units
> 
> Sophie’s Gremlin: CR4-J “Crackerjack”  
> Alexios’ Gremlin: HAV-C “Havoc.”  
> Jerry’s Gremlin: M3R-C “Mercy”  
> Remi’s Gremlin: H4-PP “Happy”


	6. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a new dynamic in play. This game of chess just went 4D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to check out my upcoming companion pieces.
> 
> Next chapter will be exclusively RWBYverse.

To say that her plans had been stymied would be a gross misappraisal of the situation.

To say that her plans needed to be amended, however, was much more on the nose.

Cinder Fall wasn’t exactly sure what on Remnant this thing was, but she’d seen her power firsthand. Emerald was nursing a minor concussion. Mercury hobbled along on one metal leg. Junior was battered and bruised something fierce. Roman was pretty much the only one to get away unscathed.

Well, other than Ezekiel. She should have seen that coming- he had no reason to be truly loyal to her. He had power, power perhaps even comparable to her current state, even if he refused to use it. But no, she could sense it, and she WANTED it.

She needed to find him, and take it, and now, she may just have the means to.

They’d captured the beast, ‘Subject Beta’, and Cinder had restrained her in a construct of her mistresses’ design. No easy feat to get her in there, but beating the thing senseless enough seemed to do the trick. She’d been given the means to tamper with the beast, as well, and she was about ready to get to work on just that. Alas, there were other matters to attend to. Namely, she needed to inform her mistress that the plan had been compromised.

Then again... did she really need to? Ezekiel wasn’t going to come back in any hurry, if she read him right. Remnant wasn’t his world, her fight not his own. Surely he would stay out of it? After all, he didn’t object to a single bit of what they’d done in his presence, or what he’d heard through the grapevine. He just wanted to go home. That was the deal, and he got what he wanted.

She’d take the risk, but still, she needed to take him into consideration. He was an unknown that could not go unaccounted for. It would be much easier to do that if she could actually see his power in action. With this creature’s power to generate portals, perhaps this was not as unlikely a prospect as she thought it to be at first. She would consult her mistress before attempting to radically shift the creature- better to have an experienced hand to avoid damaging whatever mechanism let her perform such feats of travel.

Junior stared at the creature with a look of consternation, his oversized cudgel hanging off his shoulder as he examined every muscle and sinew.

”She’s real, Mr. Xiong. I figured your injuries would be a testimony to that.”

Junior shook his head, slowly. “No,” he said, halfway under his breath. “No, I know that it’s real. It’s just... unnatural. Something like this shouldn’t exist. It’s wrong.”

”Oh? And tell me, Mr. Xiong, what makes you think that? She’s far away from her home, lost, abandoned, with nothing familiar to her but violence and rage. Would you not be afraid if you were plucked from where you stood and put into her world?”

”Hell yeah, I would, because there’d be more of her there.”

Cinder smirked as she ran a palm over the face of the sedated creature, who growled in barely-subdued hatred at the intrusion. She could get plenty of use out of Subject Beta. Plenty indeed.

”So, Cinder!” Roman called, entering the chamber with a flourish, his little tricolor whore practically attached to his hip. “How is our new houseguest?”

Cinder cocked her head over her shoulder, giving the outlaw a glare that changed his tune quite quickly.

”Yeah, I figure. So, I’ve got my people sniffing around, but it’s probably not gonna go anywhere- that Ezekiel fellow literally vanished into thin air, knowing a lot more about us than we know about him.”

”Yes. I believe that portal led back to his world, so we shouldn’t worry ourselves too much over him.”

”Well, if he comes back for some reason, thats a mighty big loose end to tie up, Cindy! The last thing we need at this point in the plan is a snitch.”

”If he returns, I will have plans in place. Until then, we proceed as normal. Mercury, Emerald, the mute and I will be resuming our reconnaissance of the Academy tomorrow morning. Supposedly, there’s a formal dance approaching. That may be the best time to launch Phase 1.”

”Definitely. Watts came through with his end of the bargain, so it’s all over but the execution.”

”We still have to find the school’s plans so that we can find the control center.”

”Ah, that can be done in a day or two, tops. We’re in no hurry.”

”Excellent news for you, Torchwick, you need all the time in the world to ensure you don’t fuck this up.”

Junior barely managed to stifle a snort, while Roman threw his hand over his chest, indignant. “I’ll have you know that I have YET to muck up our plans, even ONCE!”

”Don’t jinx it,” Junior warned him.

”Shut it! I know exactly what I bring to the table here, you-“

Cinder couldn’t care less about Roman’s fragile ego at this point. She had other, much more important matters to attend to. Her subordinate would be rather upset if Cinder didn’t feign concern, as usual.

”I’ll deal with you later,” she said, once again putting her hand on Subject Beta’s face. This time, she didn’t even make a sound.

* * *

 

_Meanwhile_

_Far away from Remnant_

_The Avenger_

 

Grace was staring at the monitors that watched the troops squaring off with the kids.

Yeah. That wasn’t good. Bradford could have told from just the air in her office that she was pissed off at this development.

”I’m getting sick of Adam’s shit, John,” she stated, biting her lip to stop herself from going into a fit of profanity. 

“It’s a lot to deal with, ma’am-“

”I KNOW, but we can’t do anything about it. There’s no Berserkers running around anymore, and even if we had the materials we still wouldn’t have the means to extract the genetic material. Adam is just going to have to learn to play with the hand he’s been dealt.”

”He’s undergoing extremely painful nerve and tissue degradation over a long period of time. I don’t think he’s going to be in the best mood.”

”He’s already making the Havens uneasy,  and the infirmary staff are scared to deal with him because of his little temper tantrums. John, he needs to be straightened out.”

”I know, and I’m going to have a LONG conversation with him when the time comes. Right now, he’s gonna get a chance to blow off some of that steam. Maybe this will help him.”

”By beating a young woman senseless?”

”I have the feeling it won’t be that one-sided, Commander.”

Grace huffed, and turned to the screen again. Phil was squaring off with Ren, and frankly, Bradford felt sorry for the latter. The big Frenchman was one of the strongest men on the ship, up there with Adam and Quaid. Hell, the only man he’d met that was stronger than Phil naturally was Mahta. He idly wondered where the big Indian could have run off too while watching Phil offer Ren the first hit, and Ren accepted, throwing out a roundhouse  kick to Phil’s chest, bowling the big man over and apparently knocking the wind out of him.

”Phil doesn’t usually have a flair for the dramatic,” Grace noted.

”That can’t be right...”

 _”Sacredamn!”_ Remi shouted, looking bewildered at Ren. _“The fuck was that?”_

 _”I kicked him,”_ Ren stated _,_ matter-of-factly. Phil had managed to sit up, catching his breath and clutching his chest. _“Are you alright?”_

_“Just surprised me. Let me up.”_

The big Frenchman did just that, standing to his feet with a bit of a catch as he braced himself, putting up his fists and waiting for Ren to try something. Ren threw out the exact same kick, but this time, Phil was ready, ducking in and tanking the kick with his shoulder.

There was a loud pop, audible even through the surveillance system- Ren had dislocated Phil’s shoulder. The gunner yelped, clutching the injured appendage and cursing a blue streak. Declan pointed at him and laughed, Roderick visibly winced, and Murphy just stared daggers at the four kids. Adam, meanwhile, looked like he was about to burst into flames.  
  
_"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?"_  
  
_"I told you, I kicked him."  
  
__"Crucified Christ, Sergeant, I feel like I've been hit by a police cruiser,"_ Phil groaned.  
  
_"Tha's some SHIT right there, son! Hey, Remi, get you some!"_ Declan shouted.

 _"Oh, FUCK THAT. Kids, explain this bullshit."_ Remi pointed accusatorily at the kids in question.

 _"He just kicked him. I have no idea what happened,"_ Pyrrha replied, looking a bit concerned herself, and approaching Phil, who objected STRONGLY.  
  
_"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"  
  
__"I'm sorry!"  
  
_ "Dear God," Bradford muttered, transfixed by the fiasco he was witnessing. "What the hell are we watching, Commander?"  
  
"An absolute Charlie Tango, John. I'm going to rip my hair out."  
  
Remi looked over at Nora, very slowly raising a finger. Nora did the same, grinning something fierce.  
  
_"I'm gonna break your leeeeeeeeegs~"  
  
__"NORA!"_ Ren protested, grabbing her outstretched hand.  
  
_"Oh, I should have bloody shot you."_

Remi begrudgingly squared up, while Nora just kept grinning, not even assuming a fighting stance. Remi wasn't willing to close the distance, and this staredown went for about a minute before Nora finally broke off, running straight at Remi with her fist cocked back. Bad move. The Belgian sidestepped, clubbing the ginger in the back of the head before grabbing her arm and attempting to drag her to the ground, intent on repeating Phil's misfortune on the other side. This obviously hurt Nora, but not enough to phase her too terribly, as she wouldn't go down to the floor, instead managing to power her way up to a straight standing position, grinning wickedly at the now very, VERY concerned Remi. He threw a vicious forearm that clocked Nora and sent her stumbling free of Remi's grip, which she followed with a punch that Remi barely dodged, pushing the fist to the side before throwing a nasty uppercut that sent her stumbling backwards, which he followed with a flying punch that knocked her to the floor.  
  
_"Up, up, vie! Try that shit with me!"_  
  
Nora immediately complied, much to Remi's consternation, kipping up to her feet and rushing at him again, going for a waist tackle. Normally, a man Remi's size could just grab Nora mid-charge and hold her in a headlock, but as was becoming abundantly clear to Grace, none of these kids operated normally. The tackle sent both Remi and Nora flying back, a good yard and a half, and ended with Remi clutching his obviously aching ribcage. Nora was up almost instantly, although it was obvious she'd felt that one too, raising her fist before grabbing Remi's right leg.  
  
_"NORA, DON'T YOU DARE!"_ Jaune demanded.  
  
_"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU CRAZY LITTLE BITCH!?"_ Remi screamed, kicking wildly at Nora with his free leg.   
  
"She's going to break his leg. John. She's going to break his leg."  
  
"They'll stop her, Commander. I have the odd feeling they've dealt with this before."

* * *

Indeed, it seemed the kids had dealt with this before, Adam noted as Pyrrha immediately leapt into action, grabbing Nora around the waist at around the same time Declan was getting ready to step in.   
  
"Nora, I swear to the gods if you DON'T LET GO OF HIS LEG, RIGHT NOW-"  
  
"Sacre fuck damn shit fuck ass bitch shit FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!"  
  
Nora's vice grip on Remi's leg was absolute, but Pyrrha's strength was evidently superior still, as she not only managed to pry Remi free, via grabbing Nora's arms and prying them apart, but she proceeded to toss Nora to the side like she weighed about six pounds.  
  
"That'll teach you to bully me and my friends, ya pricks!" Nora shouted.  
  
"Oh, you sleep with one eye open, you psycho slut!" Remi shouted back. "I will make you WISH you'd stayed on the other side of that fucking portal!"  
  
"Remi, for God's sake-" Phil groaned, having finally sat up and managed to move a bit after getting the shit kicked out of him.  
  
Declan turned his head just so, and cocked an eyebrow at Adam, smirking like an idiot. "Oh, Adaaaaaam~"  
  
" _What._ "  
  
"I don't think you're gonna want to take this one, boss man."  
  
"I bet. OI!" The Welshman shouted, stepping forward and pointing at both Remi and Nora. "Both of you SHUT THE FUCK UP for TEN BLOODY SECONDS. We were supposed to be bloody sparring, and we somehow devolved into a goddamned Vale Tudo cage fight or some such bullshit. It's obvious that YOU LOT," he pointed at the kids, "have some sort of physiological anomaly compared to us. I don't know how it affects you, I don't know what it does, and I don't have anything to say to you about it, but as for YOU!"  
  
Adam turned his attention back to Phil and Remi, the later of whom was stretching his leg awkwardly, glaring up at Adam. "You just GOT YOUR ARSES HANDED TO YOU BY A CHILD WHOSE SENSE OF COMBAT DRESS IS A BLOODY HOOKER'S UNIFORM, AND A HYPERACTIVE SPAZ WITH A DEATH WISH!  **GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, ASSASSIN!** "

"I really don't see how any of this is THEIR fault, Adam," Pyrrha stated, sending the room into dead silence for about a minute. Nobody said a word, simply staring at the redhead, then at Adam, then at Pyrrha again, then at each other.  
  
"Oh, fuck," Declan guffawed, punching Adam in the shoulder. "You gon' just take that shit?"  
  
Adam slowly, ever so slowly, turned to look at Pyrrha. "Excuse me?  **What?** "  
  
Pyrrha didn't even blink.  
  
Remi bit his lip, while Phil just stared ahead, trying to contain the amusement he was feeling at this situation. Declan just laughed, slapping Adam on the back while the old veteran just  _stood there_. He was being mocked. These kids, who had stepped into his life, put his entire fireteam at risk, put the entire Avenger at risk, put themselves AND his comrades in danger looking after their asses TWICE, eaten their food, slept in their beds, used their showers, and were living on their ship... were mocking him.  
  
"Pyrrha, you're not helping at all-" Jaune whispered loudly, before getting elbowed in the ribs.  
  
"Declan."  
  
"Yessir?"  
  
"Hurt him."  
  
Declan sighed, running a hand through rusty red locks and letting out a long, drawn out yawn. Jaune audibly gulped, looking terrified... and then confused, because Declan was taking off his top.  
  
"Declan, what in the fuck are you doing?" Adam asked, his voice cracking slightly as his blistering rage threatened to burst forth again.   
  
"Play my music, Central!" Declan shouted at the ceiling, before throwing the top at Jaune, who visibly recoiled at the POSSIBILITY of being touched by it.  
  
"Holy shit. You're fucking stupid," Alexios muttered, burying his face in his hands as he tried to ignore what was about to happen.  
  
"Oh my god. I'm dying," Jerry wheezed. "I'm dying, and this is hell."  
  
"Shakes and weights!" Roderick shouted, grinning ear to ear. "Shakes and weights!"  
  
"Fuck you!"  
  
Declan turned his attention to Jaune, giving him a shrug. "You even know how to fight?"  
  
"I mean, I think it would be obvious."  
  
"No it is then. Come get yo' ass beat, Sergeant's orders."  
  
Jaune awkwardly raised his fists, stepping forward at Pyrrha's insistence.  
  
"You can do this," she assured him.  
  
"Oh, no he can't," Murphy spoke up, smirking.  
  
"Lieut, come on," Roderick chided him, knocking his CO's hat half off. "Asshole."  
  
Declan threw a few phantom punches, before motioning for Jaune to come at him. Jaune did so... slowly, basically shuffling at the older man, who seemed amused by this display.   
  
"BREAK HIM, ALREADY!" Adam shouted, folding his arms and staring at Pyrrha, who stared back, unamused.  
  
"Alright, alright, I was tryna be nice. Fine!"  
  
Declan stepped forward, throwing a punch that Jaune managed to block easily, followed by another, which met the same resistance. Pyrrha smirked at Adam, drawing his ire even further. Unfortunately, her smirk, and the color in her cheeks, left her when Declan suddenly, and swiftly, sent his boot swinging with a long punt to Jaune's...  
  
_Ouch_.  
  
"Ding!" Declan shouted, admiring his handiwork before raising his foot and stomping on the hunched-over Jaune's head with as much force as he could muster, sending the blonde crashing to the floor with a crackle of white and yellow. That fucking Aura shit again. "Count the pin, ref!"  
  
"Quit playing around."  
  
Declan rolled his eyes and went for another stomp, which Jaune managed to roll away from, scrambling to his feet as Declan followed after him, grabbing an arm and lifting the boy up to give him a series of punches to the midsection, followed by a hook to the face, a snappy uppercut, and a kick to the chest that sent Jaune sprawling back to the floor towards Pyrrha. She was mouthing something concernedly in Jaune's direction, although Adam neither could nor cared to hear it, simply satisfied that Declan, at the very least, had been paired off with the weakest link among the kids.   
  
Declan strolled casually over, giving Pyrrha a casual point as he stepped on Jaune's chest, propping an elbow on his knee. "So, how come he's a pussy?"  
  
Pyrrha looked like she could snap his neck right then, right there, and Declan just smiled some more. "I mean, come on, your friends dropped two guys who literally survived prison in a couple of hits, but he can't do shit. What's up with that?"  
  
Jaune's grip on  Declan's foot shifted suddenly, and the larger teen, suddenly had a grip on Declan's ankle, and he pulled, turning his body to try and throw off Declan's balance- although that failed, it gave him room to escape, scrambling to his feet with an annoyed Declan slowly turning to face him.  
  
"Jaune, come on!" Nora screamed, slamming her foot against the floor. "Do something!"  
  
Jaune tried, at least, throwing wide, sloppy punches that Declan effortlessly dodged, before handing Jaune a hefty slap that resonated across the room, sending his Aura flaring again, before crackling like it did when Pyrrha apparently got shot. The kid didn't have some kind of crutch now, if Adam understood correctly.   
  
_'Just finish him off already, Declan_.'  
  
Declan was not in the mood for that, instead pulling Jaune's face back into place and slapping him with the opposite hand, grinning like an idiot. "Come on, Johnny! Hit me!"  
  
Pyrrha's disdain had suddenly morphed to concern as Declan continued his assault, grabbing Jaune and putting him in a headlock. Usually, someone Jaune's size would be able to manhandle Declan, considering Declan was 180something pounds, 5'9", maybe 5'10" at the tallest. Adam was BARELY taller than him. And here Declan was, hammering away at Jaune's skull from a back headlock.  
  
"Come on, Jaune," Pyrrha could be heard muttering, and even Hitman team was starting to look a little worried.  
  
"Think he's had enough, Declan!" Murphy spoke up, standing to his feet and starting to walk, only stopping when Jaune yelled incoherently, and shoved Declan.   
  
Well, shoved would not describe what happened very accurately. 'Throw' would be a better word. He halfway threw Declan across the room just by pushing him, the ranger rolling to his feet and running back at Jaune will a full-on grin-  
  
Directly into Jaune's fist.  
  
Jaune had thrown a sloppy, but effective haymaker that practically turned Declan's legs to spaghetti, the other man barely keeping his feet, much to Adam's rage, and everyone else's shock, even Jaune's teammates. Declan spat on the floor, a bit of red coming along with it as he grinned.  
  
"Shiiiiiiiiiiit, boy! Where was that the whole time?" he slurred, before shaking his head a few times, attempting to straighten himself out, and failing miserably.  
  
"Oi, what the hell?" Murphy was already getting between them. "Step back, Jaune- Jerry!"  
  
"Holy shit, you rocked his clock, kid!" Roderick had walked over to Jaune, looking at his hand. "And not even a bruise- what the fuck do they feed you kids? Raw eggs, protein shakes, and steroids?"  
  
Jaune shook his head. "Full breakfast."  
  
Roderick burst out laughing, and Jerry chuckled along- hell, even the loopy Declan was giggling like a schoolgirl about it.  
  
"Okay, so, this isn't just a fluke. Guys, somehow, you hit harder than a bunch of grown-ass soldiers, because you knocked out Declan's tooth and gave him a concussion. Do me a favor, Pyrrha? Hold back on Adam."  
  
"No," Adam interrupted. "The ayys aren't going to hold back, so neither should we. No guarantee the boy will get that lucky with a Muton, right?"  
  
"Yeah, Adam, but-"  
  
"But my arse, Jerry. Get him to medical."  
  
Jerry sighed, frowning at him. "Man, you're stubborn. Come on, Declan, let's get you laid down for a minute."  
  
Jerry dragged Declan off, with Rodericks' assistance, while Murphy stepped from between Jaune and the medic, to between Adam and the approaching redhead.  
  
"Murph," Adam started.  
  
"No,  _Sergeant Jones_. We stop this when I say we do."   
  
Murphy made a point of pushing Adam back, before turning to Pyrrha. "Goes for you too."  
  
"Oh, I understand. If Sergeant Jones insists on destroying himself trying to destroy me, I'll allow you to take over."

* * *

 

"John, I'm getting out of this fucking chair, and I'm going to beat his ass."  
  
"Commander, Murphy has it under control-"  
  
"You know that's bullshit. Adam's going to lose it. We've both seen him lose it before, and I do NOT want to have to keep the kids on the ship with a basket case. What happened a year ago is in the past, and yet Adam is STILL taking it out on EVERYONE- these kids are in DANGER around him, Bradford."  
  
"Everyone is in danger around him, around _us_. What do you want to do about it, Grace?"  
  
Grace buckled at that, and while Bradford felt ashamed to bring it up, it felt necessary. Yes, Adam was in no way fit for duty anymore, and it was becoming more and more obvious the longer the conflict went on, but goddammit, he was loyal. He'd been a soldier for them from day one, he fought for the original project, he stuck his neck out and followed Bradford when it looked like there was no hope- Bradford felt a sense of obligation to the sharpshooter. He'd been partially responsible for the events leading up to this, his bad decisions made out on the open road killed people and irreparably damaged others.   
  
Remi and Phil had stood up, getting between Pyrrha and Adam as well.  
  
_"This is a bad idea,"_ Remi stated, looking specifically at Adam.  _"Why don't we just revisit this later, when you're COOL, Sarge."_  
  
_"You need to leave,"_ Phil grabbed Pyrrha by the shoulder, attempting to pull her towards the exit, only for the redhead to jerk away from him.  _"You need to LEAVE_ ," he insisted.  _  
  
__"... Sir?"_ She looked to Murphy, who in turn looked to Adam, who in turn looked back at Pyrrha.  
  
_"You know what? I think that's an alright idea,"_ Murphy agreed.  _"Go and hang out in the infirmary or something. I'll come get you lot when this is settled."  
  
_ Pyrrha walked away, with Adam's eyes following her the whole way out. As soon as she left the room, Phil stepped into the doorway, turning to look at Adam.   
  
_"Pardonnez-moi mon Anglais, mais, Sergeant- what the FUCK is your problem?"  
  
__"My problem? You see that? They literally beat the hell out of us? They could KILL US if they BREATHED wrong on us, Private!"  
  
__"Adam, listen to me- no one on this ship is trying to kill you, bruv. You're safe."  
  
__"And I thought I was a fucking psycho,"_ Remi groused, looking down at Adam.  _"I'm more scared of you at this point than I am of them- you're always snapping. I'm pretty sure your sanity is about as stable as a strand of floss. At least that Ren kid sleeps most of the day, I don't know when you might come in and frag my ass!"  
  
__"Remi, you're not helpin',"_ Murphy warned him.  
  
_"I don't need bloody criticism from the fucking Vichy, French,"_ Adam replied.  
  
_"I'm BELGIAN, sheep-shagger!"  
  
_ "Oh, God DAMMIT!"  
  
"Grace. Let them talk. I think Adam needs to hear this from someone, because we both know he hasn't been hearing it from us."  
  
"We need a damn shrink on this boat."  
  
"You're telling me. About the only confidence I've had is the bar," Bradford joked.  
  
"At least you're a functioning alcoholic."  
  
"Barely."  
  
Suddenly, Grace's command terminal lit up, revealing an incoming transmission- it was the Spokesman.  
  
"What the hell's he doing contacting us out of the blue like this?"  
  
"Must be important for him to be contacting us right now, it's late in his neck of the woods."  
  
Grace opened the channel, and the silhouette of their old friend came into view.  
  
_"Commander."  
  
_ "Spokesman. What's the occassion?"  
  
_"It has come to the attention of Resistance operators that you've been mobilizing your crew ant attempting to reclaim North America from ADVENT. I have an associate who wishes to speak with you about an opportunity to forge a permanent alliance, should you choose to accept it."  
  
_ "Who's asking?"  
  
_"There is a community of former ADVENT peacekeepers colonizing the Australian outback in secret, calling themselves 'The Skirmishers'. Their leader, Betos, wishes to have your aid in establishing relations with the Reapers, who are on uneasy terms with the Skirmishers at this time."_  
  
Bradford's eyebrows shot up. Konstantine had mentioned ADVENT making offers to 'talk' with him, but he assumed it was some kind of euphemism for ADVENT kill-capture teams, not actual ADVENT trying to make contact with him.  
  
"What do you think, John?" Grace asked.  
  
"I'll get in touch with Volk immediately."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. The fight.
> 
> It's anticlimactic, I know. There's a reason for that. You see, RWBY seems to operate on anime physics. Shit that should kill people, doesn't. They can literally tank being shot multiple times thanks to Aura, and hit hard enough to send people flying. Some of it can be explained as 'Aura', but not all of it. Thus, in a physical brawl, JNPR are far stronger than XCOM. They're not Berserker strong, but probably around the same strength as a Muton, but slightly less durable without Aura, and a fair sight faster as a general rule. So, yeah. Sorry, again.
> 
> We're getting close to 'Lost and Abandoned' now, and I will let you know now, JNPR will not be going on that mission. If you want me to chronicle the cast's goings on in that operation, then tell me, but otherwise, I'll leave it offscreen.


	7. Permafrost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for the truth begins, but some people are further along than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't intended to be very long, but SHIT it came out shorter than I thought. I'm so sorry- writers block is eating me alive, and I need to at least knock this one out of the way, because I need to keep my promises to you guys. Next time will be better, swear it.

Time was running out.  
  
Ozpin didn't know this for a fact, but he could reasonably infer that was the case. There were things starting to change on Remnant. Things that didn't belong here were popping up in conspicuous places.  
  
He knew Ezekiel Collins existed. He did not know exactly what he was doing, who he was with, or what they were planning to do, but he knew he existed. That was one of the many leads Glynda and Qrow would have to follow up on. Something told him that as unlikely as him ever returning was, if the man came back from his little portal leap, he'd be more than willing to cooperate. His comrades would not- Ozpin had seen that much, although he was loath to tell anyone. One face in particular gave him a reason to be concerned, but no matter- it would come to pass in its own time.  
  
That beast in the forest wasn't a Grimm or an animal. It was something else entirely. And it was still alive. In the hands of whomever it was that had been accompanying Ezekiel that day.  
  
He'd have to keep his many eyes, and many ears open. With this many rapidly changing variables before his own eyes, one could only imagine how  _her_ plans had shifted.

* * *

 

Qrow liked to think he was ahead of the curve on most matters, especially those involving the Huntsman's profession, considering, oh, he didn't know, he was working for  _fucking_ Ozpin, of all people. Where most people saw a simple eccentric, Qrow had learned that Ozpin was so much more than that, for better or for worse. Just being aligned with Ozpin, being as close to him as he was, meant Qrow knew things that he was almost certain no other man, woman, or child on Remnant knew besides Ozpin's little cabal, and even then, he was one of the man's closer confidants in that private circle. Sure, he still had a HELL of a lot of questions about who, or what exactly, Oz was, but at least he knew he could trust him. 

The fact that Oz seemed to know more than he was letting on about the whole 'missing students' thing disconcerted Glynda, but Qrow actually found it comforting. Just because he was being a smug, cryptic little shit about it didn't mean he didn't have an idea of what was going on. He just hoped he'd share it sooner or later.  
  
But, that wasn't really a matter of concern to him at the moment. He'd gone out on his own to search for clues, and so far? He was coming up empty handed. The area they'd been in hadn't even really been touched... save for something rusty orange on the ground. It was dried up on the grass, so it wasn't recent... and the grass it had stained was wilted, dead. Strange.  
  
The air of the clearing JNPR had last been in felt  _off_ , that was certain, but he wasn't sure exactly why. The blood alone wasn't it. Blood wasn't that shade of orange. The question was...what was it, if it wasn't blood?  
  
"Uncle QROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!"  
  
Ah, shit. Looks like he had a tail. He figured she'd have taken his wisdom and slept in instead of,  you know, waking up at the ass crack of dawn, but then again, these were Ruby's friends she was missing. He'd be more surprised if she slept at all last night, worried as she must have been.   
  
Sure enough, his younger niece came into the clearing in a flurry of red, braking hard with Crescent Rose and sliding to a halt right in front of the patch of dead grass, which Qrow now realized wasn't just a patch- it was a trail, leading somewhere, forming a serpentine pattern of wilted foliage. Definitely worth following.  
  
"Sup, squirt?"  
  
"Didja find anything?" she asked, her eyes and voice making it clear she'd take any news, good or bad, just so long as it meant her friends were out there.   
  
"Just this. Looks like some kind of paint, or some other kind of liquid. It forms a trail, headed east. Where's your team?"  
  
"They're on the way!"  
  
"Right. Look, follow this trail. I'm gonna go ahead and see where it leads myself, and keep an eye out from above. Got it?"  
  
"Okay! You can count on me!"  
  
"Know I can."  
  
With that, Qrow started walking. waiting until he broke the treeline to transform. Arguably the weirdest thing Oz had done for him was turn him into a damn crow, but it had its uses. The sky was a sanctuary in and of itself. No one was gonna be following him up here and hounding his ass unless his deadbeat sister came rolling back into his life again, which was, to say the least, highly unlikely. It was just him, his eyes, his thoughts, and Remnant below. It just felt... right. As if nothing was unusual about it at all. Maybe that was just the years of getting used to it talking.  
  
Nothing stood out so far. The trail was long, and easily visible from the air, because the grass wasn't the only thing dead. A zigzagging, irregular pattern of trees, stripped bare of leaves and covered in what looked like a small layer of permafrost stood stark and bare against the lush greens and yellows of the normally verdant Emerald Forest. Fall came late this year, which made this all the more suspicious.  
  
Qrow flew lower, looking to see if his suspicions were correct. Lo, the trail passed right by those dead trees.  
  
_'It's cold as shit,'_ he noted, deciding to stick under the treeline and following the blood trail. He was pretty sure it was blood now. Not really much to go on other than the fact that it was headed for one of the hills, but paint didn't kill grass and change the weather in a local area. Either it was blood, or some kind of coolant (which would explain the odd chill), and nothing that needed that much coolant would be trekking through the Emerald Forest, either due to being a bit too big to get away with it, or because whoever was carrying it would have run out a good few minutes ago.  
  
Then again, the same could be said for blood.  
  
Just what the fuck was at the end of this trail?

* * *

"So, is it striking anyone else as weird that literally everything in front of us is dead?" Yang asked.  
  
"Not EVERYTHING," Ruby corrected her. "B-but, yeah, a lot of it is... unseasonably dead. Like, winter dead."  
  
"And it feels... sort of chilly. Wasn't it supposed to be warm today?" Blake looked over at Weiss, who was dabbling with her Scroll, eyebrows arched in confusion.  
  
"It's 80 degrees in Vale City proper." Weiss turned the Scroll to her teammates. "But here, not even 5 miles away, it's 65. It's rising slowly, but still."

"That doesn't make much sense," Blake agreed. "For it to be warm everywhere else but here... and it wasn't cold on our way to this point, either. It only started once we reached the meeting point."  
  
"Well, I guess we won't find out why until we get to the end of it! Come on!"  
  
Ruby took off first, setting the pace for everyone else, unaware that she and her team were being watched.  
  
Subject Gamma had somehow escaped from its attackers in the cave that had once imprisoned it, but the portal it had used to initially escape to its own homeworld, if only to see it devastated and stripped of life and return home, somehow led to this strange planetoid, with humans, a strong psionic presence, and even advanced flying machines on par with those of the Elders' puppet children.  
  
To be fair, that descriptor could also apply to the rest of his kind, as loath as he was to admit it. Puppets of the Elders who promised protection from a greater threat, only for him to be sterilized and his people reduced to a mass-cloned breeding stock. If he had anything to be glad about in his forced captivity under that... abomination... he could be glad that at the very least, he had begun to restore his proud people, if only in that small enclave. Although, if those humans and that beast managed to get through...  
  
No. His people would be fine. He would see to that upon his return. For now, he had to evade capture, lick his wounds, and await the proper time. He would not be hunted here. Or so he thought.  
  
Sure enough, all humans were the same. Desiring the destruction of that they didn't understand. Much like his own people, in the dark times before his ascent. Even when the Elders came, they were still a closely-guarded, paranoid society- if it weren't for their unique... methods of persuasion... they'd have likely been buried on his land. Alas, had they been, this all could have been prevented. Perhaps, in a better life, they were. What he had done to deserve such a future being ripped from his hands was beyond his comprehension. Someday he would know. But until that day, he had to live. And it seemed these humans would not make it easy for him.   
  
He was lucky to escape the shapeshifter's notice, if temporarily, but he could not hide from one in the air, not when his grievous wounds meant that he couldn't control his body temperature. The land around him was unready for such a change. If he was not quick, he would be found within minutes, but if he moved too fast, the sound would surely get their attention.  
  
Enraged by the seeming lack of options before him, the Viper King darted into the clearing as quietly as his large frame would allow, headed for where the children and the bird man had come from. He would escape. It was absolutely essential.  
  
A few minutes were spent slithering through the trees, hoping that the way forward led to the exit of the forest, giving him time to flee, but he knew he was being tailed. A quick look to the sky revealed that the damned crow was following him. He turned his head, spitting icy ichor at the bird, and knocking it from the sky. That would most definitely either kill him, or keep him busy.   
  
" _Now_ ," he hissed, " _to flee this wretched land and return to 'Earth'. My people may still be alive, if none remain in the cave. I will simply find more_." 

The possibility of escape was growing much more likely by the second. He could no longer hear the humans' obnoxious chatter, and he could smell nothing around him. Only the birds, the trees, and the smell of...  
  
Civilization.  
  
There were people near. Damn. More than just a few strays to worry over. Truly he was in an unfavorable position.  
  
He attempted to figure out an escape plan on the fly, but alas, he was too late. He heard a dull thump of feet against the grass, and turned to face his oppressor- the bird man wasn't even the least bit chilled by the ice.  
  
"Wrong bird."  
  
So be it.

* * *

This thing was UGLY. Uglier than anything Qrow had ever seen. It definitely wasn't a Grimm, but it wasn't natural either. Not Remnant nature, anyway. It looked...felt warped. Sick. Like someone had took it apart and put it back together all wrong. Like a snake that wanted to be a man.  
  
It hissed loudly at him, cold air gusting against Qrow's face as the beast turned to flee. The old drunk wouldn't' have it, shifting Harbinger to shotgun form and taking a wild shot that knocked the creature flat on its stomach. Not really impressive resistance, that. It attempted to crawl to its feet-er, tail-body-stomach-coil thing, and started slithering away, only for Qrow to fire again, knocking it flat a second time.  
  
"Stop fightin' it," he warned, shifting Harbinger to sword form, and dragging it against the grass behind him, giving the weapon a light twirl and resting it against his shoulder. "Come on."  
  
The beast turned its head to Qrow and attempted to blast him with ice, only for the seasoned Huntsman to dodge it with ease, preparing his sword for a final coup de grace as the snake attempted to coil up in a defensive position.  
  
That's when the unexpected happened.  
  
The creature roared at him a second time, a void of purple appearing behind it. Qrow was a bit shocked, but the creature was even more so, seemingly emboldened by the presence of an escape route. It turned and fled, leaping into the cloud of swirling violet as fast and as far as it could, disappearing in a puff of what was almost like an ethereal smoke. Qrow attempted to stop it from closing, only for it to simply blow away with the wind.  
  
So much for that lead.  
  
With a loud sigh, Qrow grabbed his canteen, and took a swig, holstering his blade once again and swallowing his disappointment.


	8. Robot Rock, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friends, new enemies, and a few in-betweeners. Things couldn't possibly get any crazier.
> 
> Until they do.

 

 _One Day Later_  
  
_The Avenger_

"So remind me again what the plan is. You've given us two different ones."  
  
Alexios' request remained unanswered for a good five seconds. Indeed, Murphy had told his team one thing, and the kids the other. "Er..."  
  
"Don't tell me you're going senile, old man," Roderick jibed, elbowing his superior in the gut as the two entered their 'launch pad', Jerry and Alexios following. The other two members of Hitman, Joseph Walker and Bridget Conrad, were laid out in their bunks.  
  
"Oi, what's this then? Yer takin' a leave wit'out me?" The Scotsman asked, raising an eyebrow from behind his glasses. Alexios shrugged.  
  
"I dunno, with the chief's leaps back and forth, we might be bringing a circus clown, two two by fours with rifles painted on them, and Bridget's marital aids."  
  
"Wh- hey, fuck off, Tiny!"   
  
"To your mother's."  
  
"I could definitely kill an alien with one of those. Things are about as thick as my forearm," Jerry continued, smirking at Roderick, who picked up the verbal ball.   
  
"Yeah, freakin' impale a Sectoid on one and split him in half. You must be l-"  
  
"Shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUP!"  
  
"Alright, I'd rather not talk about usin' a bloody sybian on an ayy," MacAuley interrupted, "especially now that such a cursed fuckin' image is in my head. Alexios, I don't bloody know what I'm gonna do. It's between you or Jerry."  
  
"So you don't need my help?" Bridget piped up, a bit dejected.  
  
"Nope. Too close quarters for a sniper. Jerry could help out if we get hurt, but Alex is an extra cracker. Could be useful if we run into automated security."  
  
"I can't confirm it's anything I've seen before, but it's highly likely," Alexios agreed. "I could probably figure it out, given time."  
  
"I don't think time is gonna be an issue. All the same, we don't want to be out in the field for too long, in case we're needed elsewhere," Murphy explained, drawing nods from his compatriots.  
  
"I'm cool with whatever you decide, sir," Jerry replied, giving an informal salute. "Either way, I'll patch you up if you get hurt."  
  
"If we're worried about operational readiness, it might not be best to send our two best hackers to the same op with the same risks." Alexios furrowed his brows in thought for a moment. "Besides, it sounds like there's more on the docket in terms of upcoming ops. We gotta try and get some more ADVENT armor for use in the Predator unit rollout, we need to test the Magnetic weapons... yeah, you know what? Might be best if Jerry goes. As long as he keeps in good health, he'll be able to patch people up in the field who aren't so lucky. I'm a lame duck, there. HAV-C isn't made for mercy missions."  
  
"And I  _specialize_ in fixin' things. People things. Y'know. People." Dammit, that sounded better in Jerry's head.  
  
"Smooth as a speed bump, Jerry," Roderick jibed. "So, am I going? I'm a big boy, I ate my Wheaties this morning."  
  
"Why wouldn't we?" Murphy motioned to Roderick. "Plus, the kids trust you and Jerry. You're familiar faces, you seem to have a rapport with them."  
  
"We barely know 'em," Roderick replied, raising a confused eyebrow. "I mean, I believe 'em, I kinda accept them, but I wouldn't say we're anything more than acquaintances."  
  
"I like 'em and all, but yeah. Maybe this is good though. We can build that sort of back and forth. Maybe get some intel out of it."  
  
"What kind of intel could four teenagers possibly have?" Bridget groused. "Not like they're some kind of exmilitary, or somethin', geez."  
  
"You would be surprised what kind of intel you can get from the strangest of places. Like Van Pey."  
  
"Van Pey?"  
  
"Yeah, Van Pey. He got us a lead on some sort of Alien Facility, and the Spokesman confirmed it's legit. Out in the Appalachian Mountains, old coal country."  
  
Alex let off an impressed low-whistle, nodding slowly. "Knew he'd be useful eventually. Even with the limp."  
  
"Hey, he earned that limp," Roderick protested. "Van Pey's one of the toughest SOB's I know."  
  
"He got shot twice in the leg after literally knocking on the front door of a militia base. That doesn't scream 'tough'," Jerry retorted.   
  
"Neither does screaming like a little bitch when your girlfriend pulls the pin on a grenade inside a crew-cab truck," Roderick fired back.  
  
"First of all, not my girlfriend, second of all, that was an alien grenade, so there was no pin, and three, we still managed to get it out of the truck. And I did not scream like a little girl, I screamed like a man in dire fear for his life."  
  
There was a poignant pause before Walker spoke up. "So... ye mean, like a wee bitch."  
  
"Shut up, Joe!"  
  
"Nae, ye."  
  
Murphy's PDA went wild in his vest pocket, and the grizzled veteran let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Alright, can everyone just get the memo that I hate this thing? Just come up to me and talk, Christ on the cross... let's see. Oh, wonderful. Menace tried to teach the kids how to use our weaponry."  
  
"How'd that go?"  
  
"Jaune shot himself in the foot with a revolver because he doesn't know what 'single action' is."  
  
"Holy crap, is he okay?" Jerry suddenly was in doctor mode again, ready to bolt out the door. "Where on his foot? Is he missing any toes? Did it ricochet? Has he broken any bones?"  
  
"Jerry. He has that Aura bullshit. Adam's dumbfounded because the wound already closed. It's been about a minute."  
  
"That's bullshit, I call bullshit," Bridget interjected again. "No fuckin' way."  
  
"Proof's in the puddin', miss."  
  
Murphy passed the message along, via actively walking over to the nonplussed Bridget and showing her. From Jerry's view,  it looked like she'd immediately been plussed.  
  
"Holy shit. HO-LEE SHIT! That wasn't just bullshit Jerry made up! They're fuckin' superhumans!"  
  
"They hated the prophet, because he spoke the truth," Jerry remarked, a bit more smug than he probably needed to be. "I wanna know what makes that tick. Is it some kind of untapped ability that all humans have? Or are they just some kind of... pseudohuman, with different mechanisms and idiosyncrasies from us? I'm not really a biologist, but maybe Tygan could lend me Idris for a few weeks and try to figure it out for ourselves..."  
  
"So what, you're askin' to do an autopsy? They're not  _dead_." Roderick narrowed his eyes at Jerry. "You're not going to kill them just to satisfy your 'scientific curiosity.'"  
  
"Heck no, I like 'em alive. Just, if they get banged up, I might put them under a microscope or something. All I'm saying."  
  
"How about you just refrain from bringing that up to them, eh?"  
  
"That would be... pretty smart."  
  
"Right. Can you go check on Jaune? See if you need to do anything?"  
  
"Don't think I need to, but okay. When're we headed out?"  
  
"Six hours," Murph replied. "Be ready in six."  
  
"Got it. See you then."  
  
Jerry turned on his heel and left the room, already imagining just what the squad was saying about him in his absence. People on this ship had a weird habit of doing that- talking about people as soon as they left the room. He'd seen just about everyone do it. Hell, he'd even gotten into the habit of doing it. Kind of freaky. 

* * *

  
  
Jerry could hear shouting long before he got to the danger room, mainly Declan and Jaune.  
  
_"Do it again, boy! I wasn't lookin' the first time!"  
  
__"I'm not shooting myself in the foot!"  
  
__"Do it! Do it! Do it!"  
  
__"Declan, I will cunt punt you."_ While Sophie couldn't be seen, Jerry could imagine her trying.  
  
_"Y'ain't shit!"  
  
_ Jerry sighed loudly, finally getting to the Training Center, where Cody Creel was waiting at the door, smirking visibly now that his bandanna was around his hair instead of his face. "Mornin', Doc."  
  
"Hey, CC. Are they dead?"   
  
"No. But I bet that boy wishes he was, HA!"  
  
"Apparently his foot's completely fine. Come check this out."  
  
"Sha, I'll believe that when pigs fly."  
  
Jerry stepped through the door just as Declan yelped, before letting out a wicked cackle.  
  
_"Got you,"_  Declan shouted with glee,  _"you think you're sli- AHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK FUCK FUCK **FUCK! SON OF A BITCH!**_ _"  
  
__"You know what? I'll let that one slide,"_ Adam said, the smile audible in his voice.  _"Just because you were bloody askin' for it."_  
  
Jerry and Cody entered the firing range to the sight of Declan laid out on the floor, clutching his crotch and curling up into a ball, while Nora and Sophie stood over him triumphantly. Jaune sat on a chair, watching the display with a look of extreme worry while nursing his bare right foot. Pyrrha and Ren just looked a bit annoyed, both of them holding X-9's. Not the new ones, either- the old, wartime ones.  
  
"Where'd you get those rifles, Adam?" Jerry asked.  
  
"Central had a crate in his office that he'd been meaning to dig through, found a few old guns from before XCOM flopped. Even got my old pistols back." Adam demonstrated by reaching into his holsters and pulling out what appeared to be two Colt-style semi-automatic pistols, before flipping them in his hands and holstering them again. The bolt action rifle resting on the leftmost target booth must have been his as well. "No need for you to look at Jaune, he's perfectly fine... somehow. Bleeds red, just like us."  
  
"I knew that, dude. Pyrrha's been shot too. They heal stupid fast, when it's working."  
  
"Hear that?" Jack sneered at Ren and Nora, raising an LMG that Jerry didn't even realize they had- must have been from that crate. "Now it's just you two. I'm gonna figure out which one of you it is REAAAAAAAAAAAAAL soon."  
  
"Dear God, Jack, I will fucking kneecap you," Lawrence muttered.   
  
"Come on, there's nothing to be afraid of if they aren't alien infiltrators here to kill me!"  
  
"Jack, put the gun  _down_."  
  
Adam sighed, motioning over to Jaune. "He'll be fine for the op. Still think you're all idiots for agreeing to that plan."  
  
"Well I think you're an idiot for thinking I'm an idiot, idiot," Jerry replied.  
  
Adam rolled his eyes. " _Hilarious._ Beside the point, they're nowhere near ready to use our equipment. None of them have ever used a grenade, and only Pyrrha and Ren know how to properly handle a rifle. Ren knows his way around pistols and knives, too, and Nora gets the grenade launcher pretty well, but Jaune can't even aim straight, and he didn't know how to properly rack a rifle until I literally ripped it out of his hands and gave him a demonstration."  
  
"And then he shot himself in the foot?" Cody butted in, having walked closer to Jaune and started looking himself. "Sure don't look like nothin' happened."  
  
"Bloody space magic."  
  
"Well, I've seen weirder things," Cody acquiesced, shrugging his shoulders. "Space magic."  
  
"We're giving them their weapons for the op." Jerry noted that Nora perked up the moment that phrase left his mouth. "We figured they wouldn't know anything about how we operate anyway."  
  
"Good luck getting Science off of them, Quoruz is acting like it's Christmas Eve. They can't seem to believe what they're seeing."  
  
"Good or bad?"  
  
"Either, depending on how you look at it. By the way, happy holidays."  
  
"... it's April 9th."  
  
"No, happy holidays. Shen's sending the Magnetic Rifle prototype into the field with you. Wants Roderick to carry it."  
  
"Whoah, sweet. Can't believe it's already ready."  
  
"Neither can I, but evidently the Commander's been poking around the underground, looking for any science types with knowledge of ADVENT weaponry. Found some lads that worked at a manufacturing center, know the weapons inside out. Wasn't hard to retool what they knew for our use."  
  
"Well, hopefully it works."  
  
"If it doesn't, it'll blow up like a C4 charge, so yeah, let's hope."  
  
"Did they test them in the lab?"  
  
"Not this one. The last three blew up in a controlled environment, but they say they 'fixed the gas leak.'"  
  
"So we don't know if it's gonna explode?"  
  
"Schrodinger's IED," Lawrence muttered, smirking. "Anyway, we got an op, too. We gotta play peacemaker for some gopniks and a bunch of... get this... ADVENT defectors."  
  
"Oh, I know you two are thrilled about that," Jerry jibed, winking at Adam and Jack.  
  
"I'll frag 'em myself," Jack stated, glaring off at nothing, while Adam just shrugged.  
  
"If the Russian and the ADVENT kill each other, it's no skin off my back. Central will bust my nuts, then be done with it."  
  
Jerry rolled his eyes. "So who all's going?"  
  
"Sophie and Lawrence are going with ADVENT lad, Jack and I are meeting the Russian."  
  
"Smart. God knows what would happen if you let Jack get within spitting distance of the defector."  
  
"I'd frag him."   
  
"We  _know_ ," Cody groaned. "Christ. Kids, he's a fucking idiot, and we apologize in advance."  
  
"We've already established that he's a paranoid nutcase, Cody, I think they get it," Lawrence agreed. "Anyway, I gotta get some work in. I haven't been running around in the field since I was in my 40s. This shit's gonna be hell on my knees."  
  
"Wait... how old are you?" Jaune asked, confused.  
  
"58."  
  
Jerry's eyebrows shot up his forehead, alarmed. "You  **WHAT** **!?** "   
  
"Oh boy, here we go again." Adam threw up his hands. "He's  _fine_."   
  
"You were in the military for HOW LONG?"  
  
"Til 2016. I was 38 then."  
  
"How many times were you WIA?"  
  
"Six or seven. Give or take... five or six."  
  
"Oh, like  _FUCK_. I'm gonna talk to Bradford-"  
  
"No. You're not. And neither is anyone else. I'm good." Lawrence stated, firmly. "Look at me, Jerry."  
  
Jerry did. Lawrence made the effort of taking off his sunglasses, revealing heavily ringed, brownish gray eyes and graying red brows.  
  
"I am  _fine_ , son. Trust me."  
  
Jerry sighed. "Yeah, fine. For now."  
  
"It's unusual for your fighting men to be that old?" Pyrrha interrupted, curious.  
  
"Yeah. Most guys hang up their helmet around 40. Why?"  
  
"There are Huntsmen still going at 60-70," Ren explained.  
  
"Aura probably slows down the aging process," Jerry hypothesized. "If you can regenerate that fast, it would make sense that cell death and atrophy over time would be less of a problem, or would at least slow down significantly compared to, say, one of us."  
  
Adam shrugged. "Whatever. Kids, I can't teach you jack shit, so just... I don't know, practice with your gear. Go finagle it off of Science."  
  
"Adam, they're not gonna just hand it over," Sophie warned him, already bracing for a loaded retort. She got none, instead, Adam just sighed.  
  
"Fine. Come on, you lot. I'm getting you your shit, then we're running a danger room simulation."  
  
"Danger Room?" Nora repeated.  
  
"We have a holographic display set up in this room, big enough to simulate about a half a block of space. We use it to train our new blood for live fire situations."  
  
"That's right. I'm gonna have you team up with some of ours to tackle a couple of scenarios," Adam explained. "See if you all just got lucky last go around? Also gotta see if you four can operate without each other."  
  
"Meaning..." Jaune started, only for Adam to cut him off.  
  
"Meaning that you need to be able to work in pairs, or on your own."  
  
"We've done it before."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah. At Beacon, we were partnered up individually. Ren's Nora's partner, and I'm with Pyrrha. We kind of had to, well,  _not die_ together on our first day."  
  
"Well, now I know who not to partner you up with. Smart lad. Cody, get a hold of the Strongs. Jerry, get Alex up here. We're about to start running sims."  
  
"Oh,  _joy_ ," Cody grumbled. "I can tell they'll be happy."

"Why wouldn't they be?"

* * *

"We're  _what_?" Private Cedric Strong asked, his eyebrows practically shooting into his skullcap at... well, this.

"Oh, come on, Ric, this is exciting!" Science Officer Cynthia Strong whined, tugging her brother along by the arm. "We get to see aliens! FRIENDLY aliens!"

"Sis, you know that this is a load of bullshit. They're not aliens, they're just people."  
  
"That's not what I've been hearin'!"

"What you've been hearing is tall tales and bullshit, which is what everyone on this ship specializes in. They're confused cosplayers-"  
  
"With space guns. I've messed around with their tech, Ric, it's YEARS ahead of even ADVENT technology!"  
  
"I'll believe it when I see it."  
  
"You'll believe it when we finish Project Tarawa. You'll believe me then!"  
  
"Project Tarawa?"  
  
"We've already found a practical application for their technology based on existing research on the Predator, EXO, and Spider Suits!"  
  
"Exo Suit? Spider Suit?"  
  
"You'll see in a week or so!"

Cedric sighed, annoyance permeating every molecule of CO2 leaving his lungs. His sister was always so overeager about anything scientific, even if it was shit she had no business messing with. Why he'd brought her along with him, he couldn't recall, but he wanted to go back and slap his seventeen year old self. Maybe these 'aliens' could use this 'space magic' to facilitate that. Nevertheless, they were needed in the Training Center for... something.   
  
Once they arrived, they found Jerry Hall of Hitman team, Cody Creel of Assassin, and Sophie Thomas, Jack Shaw, Declan Delacroix, and Lawrence Hamilton of Menace.  
  
"Um..." Cedric started, waiting at the threshold for some sort of approval. Corporal Hamilton ended up being the one giving it.

"Come on, kid, shit, don't just stand there."   
  
Cedric stepped in, his sister eagerly following him in.   
  
"So! What's up?" She asked, waving eagerly at Sophie, who waved back with a soft smile.  
  
"Oh, nothin' big. Just training exercises with our new friends. They'll be back with their gear soon, Adam went to grab it for them," Sophie explained. "I'm guessing he wanted you to set up the sim, Cynthia. As for you, though, Cedric... no clue." 

"Probably wants you to get some training in."

Cedric shrugged. "Maybe. I don't care. So, the aliens are gonna be here, huh? What do they look like?"

"Like us."

_"... uh-huh."_

"Seriously," Jack agreed, frowning. "If they hadn't told me they were aliens, even Iwouldn't be able to tell."

"That is truly scary," Cedric deadpanned. "My God. Without the mighty Jack Shaw's alien-detecting sixth sense, we're fucking doomed."

"I'm trying to realign my chakras, see if that might help," Jack continued, grasping his chin thoughtfully. "But-"

"Yeah, um, skip it," Cedric interrupted, turning to Jerry. "Jerry, my man."

"What's up, Cedric?"

"You got any idea?"

"Woulda said something if I did, man."

Cedric rolled his eyes, folding his arms and looking over at the door. "My God, can they HURRY up?"

"What's got you in such a hurry?" Cody asked, "The ship ain't goin' nowheres."

"I just wanna find out what the hell Adam wants from me, and then I want to leave once I'm done with it."

"Fair enough, bud, but I think I may have an idea now," Jerry spoke up, pulling his helmet mic down and calling up the officer in question. "Hey, Adam? What do you need the Strongs for?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know that, that was obvious. What about Cedric? Oh.  _Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh_. Gotcha. See you in a minute." With that, he flipped the mic up and pointed at Cedric. "You're working with the kids."

"The kids?"

"The aliens, Cedric," Sophie elaborated. 

"You have gotta be shitting me."

"Aw, come on Cedric!" Cynthia whined. "It could be fun! I can't wait to meet them, Michelle's already told me about their weapons tech. It's amazing stuff, years ahead of anything we've-"

Cedric raised his hand. "Shut up."

Jerry muttered something under his breath, looking over at Lawrence and Declan, who nodded. The latter two smirked, and Jerry started to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Cody asked, frowning.

"You know, I think they're around your age, Cedric," Jerry stated. 

"What do you mean 'around my age'? They're  _aliens_ , Jerry," Cedric retorted, feeling a pit in his stomach. What the  _fuck_ were they implying? That he would fuck an alien?

"Yeah, I think the girls are both 17. That's in your strike zone, right, Cedric?" Lawrence asked, pushing his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and leering at Cedric. It was now obvious they were clowning on him. How  _hilarious._

"Yeah, boy, if they-"  
  
"Declan!" Jerry and Lawrence raised their voices simultaneously, turning towards the Ranger and raising a single hand each.

"I was just gonna say if they're single, Cedric has a decent shot."

Jerry did not lower his hand. "Declan. I'm watching you."

"I had no idea you saw me that way, Jeremiah," he jibed, smirking. "Alas, I'm spoken for."

"You see that? Even Declan's smashin' box, kiddo, you better get on the boat while you still can," Cody jumped in, sneering, before being cut off by none other than the man of the hour himself. 

"I sincerely hope you're not talking about what I  _think_ you're talking about."

Adam leaned against the door to the Training Center, raising an eyebrow at Cedric, who was now just processing that he was the one being singled out. Before he could open his mouth to reply, Declan took care of it for him.

"He's gon' fuck one of the aliens."

There was a curtain of silence over the room for all of ten seconds, and it was like time stood still. Adam's mouth hung open slightly, while Jack looked like he was about to explode. Lawrence's sunglasses slowly slid down his nose into his hand, while Jerry and Sophie could only look at each other, stunned. Declan simply smiled like he'd not just said that, putting a hand on his hip and looking at the frozen Cedric, who felt like his face was literally on fire.

Lawrence started chuckling. 

Declan started laughing. 

And Jack let out a roaring laugh that threatened to deafen Cedric where he stood.  Jerry just stood there, still dumbfounded, his gaze now locked on the satisfied Declan, while Sophie looked like she was about to pop. Cedric's eyes darted from person to person, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Shit, even ADAM was chuckling. Adam NEVER laughed.

"Oh my GOD, Declan, you're disgusting!" Sophie shouted, shoving the Ranger before throwing a weak punch at him. 

"I don't get it!" Cynthia protested. "If they're aliens, fornicating with them would be a really bad idea!"

"No shit!" Cedric agreed, finally finding his voice. "That's fuckin' weird, Declan!"

"Man, and I thought I was fuckin' wild," Cody mused, trying to keep himself from bursting into laughter.

Jerry, too, finally found something to say. "I am so done. Declan, I hope you die. I really hope you do. You took the joke, and you didn't run home with it- you ran across the interstate, and spiked that thing into rush hour traffic.""

"Alright, that's enough talk of that," Adam cut in, taking a deep breath. "Besides, you'll be tired of them within five minutes, Cedric. It's a psychopath with a leg-breaking fetish, a little coward who can barely look at us without tensing up like we're going to throw him from the decks, and a giantess who thinks it's her job to play Superwoman. Plus, the one normal guy."

"Do not shit talk my second pair of eyes, Adam," Lawrence warned him. "He is Allah's gift to me, after all the years of bullshit I've had to put up with."

"Like I said, he's normal. Might keep that one. He's probably of like mind to me. Tired of their crap."

"I dunno, boss, it seems like Ren and Nora are attached at the hip. Never seen 'em apart unless we forced them to be." Jerry clapped his hands together to illustrate the point. "She's pretty much the only person he talks to, too."

"Think they might be siblings?"

"I think they'd have said something about it."

"We barely even know them!" Sophie interjected. "Why are we acting like we need to know all these things, anyway? I get being nice, and all, but we're training them to fight  _for us_? I thought we were just giving them a ride home?"

"Lass, apparently  _home_ is another fucking planet for them. At least, if I recall correctly."

_**"Sergeant Jones, Sergeant Duvalier, Lieutenant MacAuley, Sergeant Connors, Chief Communications Officer Stark, and Commander Cheng, report to the Bridge. Sergeant Jones, Sergeant Duvalier, Lieutenant MacAuley, Sergeant Connors, Chief Communications Officer Stark, and Commander Cheng, report to the Bridge. "** _

The PA died down, having sufficiently cut conversation short. Adam looked over the assembled, obviously a bit perturbed. 

"You have any idea what's up?" Jerry asked, slowly, as if he were afraid of the answer.

"I don't know. That's all the officers," Adam replied. "I'll be back. When the kids arrive, Cynthia, set up the targeting range protocol. I have a feeling this might take a bit."

"Can do, sir!" 

With that, Adam left, and the room was a lot quieter than it used to be. 

"So..." Declan started, looking over at Jerry, then at Cedric.

"Declan, don't you  _dare_." Sophie was already cocking her fist, ready to punch Declan right in the mouth.

"Cedric, which of them alien chicks you gonna try and b-"

* * *

_"WOULD YOU STOP WITH THE BANGING!? NOBODY IS BANGING ANYONE!"_

Jaune shot up ramrod straight at the sound of Sophie very loudly asserting that there would be no rocking of the boat. Ren did the same, while Pyrrha just sighed loudly, and Nora began to giggle.

"I wonder what's got them all worked up?" Pyrrha asked,  _attempting mightily_ to pretend she didn't already know. 

"Beats me," Jaune lied, smiling awkwardly as he fiddled with the hilt of Crocea Mors. "Maybe we should just leave them alone, not like anyone will notice."

"Jaune, everyone will notice. Especially that Adam. He'll notice."

Jaune was sufficiently cowed by that. Funny how a man shorter than Jaune, with no Aura or Semblance, that he could probably concuss if Declan's situation was any indication scared him  _that much_. Hell, even Pyrrha, 'Invincible Girl' she was, seemed to actually give the man a limited measure of respect. Emphasis on  _limited_. Jaune had never seen Pyrrha angrier at anyone that wasn't Cardin. 

Ah well. They could work on him. Or avoid him. Jaune would love that.

The Training Center grew closer, and the sound of a ruckus grew louder. By the time Jaune had walked through the door, it had devolved into something resembling a gang fight, except it was Sophie and Jerry being held back by the combined efforts of a chubby young woman in a lab coat, a guy about their age in a beanie, jeans and a ratty T-shirt, Jack, Lawrence, and Cody. Declan just stood on the other side of them, looking smug to the point of absurdity as he turned to face Jaune... and then Pyrrha.

"So, Cedric!"

"DECLAN, YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!" Sophie screeched.

"I liked him better when his head was in the right place," Jerry groaned.

"Can we get some ORDER in this house, goddammit!?" Cody asked, throwing his hands up, and by extension, releasing Sophie, who tore herself from Lawrence's grip and threw herself at Declan.

"She literally looks for reasons to punch him. She MAKES reasons to punch him," 'Cedric' (he must be the Beanie Guy) muttered, before turning to JNPR. His eyes suddenly went wide, and he attempted to pull his shirt straight, adjust his beanie, and for some reason, look nice. Jaune couldn't imagine why.

"Welp, he picked one!" Declan chortled, pushing away the impotent little lady trying to pummel him with rapid fire fists. Order was otherwise returning to the room, everyone dusting themselves off and pretending that their guests didn't walk in on some sort of strange argument. 

"Hi!" Lab Coat spoke up. "I'm Cynthia Strong, from the Science Division. Nice to meet'cha!"

"I-I'm Cedric. Cedric Strong. You must be, uh..."

Cedric awkwardly waffled, before pointing slowly at Pyrrha. "...Nora?"

"That would be me!" Nora spoke up.

"Cool, no one cares. So you're Pyrrha."

"...yes."

"Sa-WING and a miss," Lawrence muttered, before motioning to Cynthia. "Set up the targets, let's just get things going straight away. Feel free to ignore Cedric, as he is a stupid child, and he doesn't matter."

"Alright, grandpa, I've had just about enough of-"

"Pick thy next words wisely, Cedric, for they might be your last," Jerry warned him. "Sup, kiddos."

"Hey, Jerry," Jaune replied, waving to the medic. "What's up with the intercom?"

"No idea. Adam said to just beat up on targets or something. Since you don't have, well, a gun... I guess you can whack targets with a sword?"

Jaune shrugged. He needed the practice anyway. "Yeah, sounds good."

Cynthia fiddled with a computer terminal, the large, empty corridor in front of them suddenly lighting up and flickering, eventually creating what appeared to be a hard light grid, which slowly formed into some sort of city block.

"Never gets old, that," Cynthia mused, smiling as she continued clacking away at the keyboard, all the while looking back at JNPR. "So! Let's see it!"

"See what?"

"The weapons, durr! I heard from Doctor Quoruz how awesome your tech is, and I wanted to see it for myself! I'm guessing by color coding, Nora owns the hammer?"

"Yep! That's my Magnhild!" Nora replied.

"Show me what that hammer do, girl! _Come on, let mama see the **goods**!_ "

Jerry visibly cringed. "We can just not use that tone of voice ever again, okay?"

"Aw, I'm just excited!"

Nora smiled, and shifted the grenade launcher in her hand into hammer form, pieces loudly clacking and clanking into place as Cynthia continued typing away, a look of childish glee on her face.

"Ohmygaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahd!"

"Okay, that's actually pretty badass," Cedric conceded. 

"Pretty badass? That's 200 PERCENT BADASS, little boy! Hey, alien! Where the fuck did you get that monstrosity?" Jack asked, almost as excited as Cynthia.

As Nora blabbed on about weaponsmiths and such with Jack, with Ren by her side, Jaune looked over at Pyrrha, finding she'd already been looking at him.

"You think you're ready? You haven't used your sword at all in the past few days," she asked. Leave it to her to worry about all that. His nerves had been fried by the whole 'another planet' thing, so he'd been sort of slacking on the training. He could probably safely infer she hadn't forgotten a day of it.

"I think I'll be fine. It's just beating up hard light dummies, right?"

"Seems that way."

Jaune rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you just show off enough, they'll actually start treating us like people instead of walking oddities."

Pyrrha smirked playfully. "I suppose I can afford to be a little flashy, if that's the case."

"Oi! What are you two conspiring about?" Sophie asked, narrowing her eyes at the two partners as she leaned off Declan's outstretched arm. 

"They're selling us out, Jack. You better get on it," Cedric joked.

"Nah, I trust P. She seems okay."

Everyone that wasn't JNPR snapped to look at Jack as if he'd suddenly grown wings.

"What brought this on?" Jerry asked.

"Could it be? Have you finally found your marbles, after all this time?" Lawrence smiled, slapping Jack on the back.

"Now, that little stringy motherfucker, I can't trust him for SHIT! He looks like a rat. Jaune, are you a rat?"

"Aaaaaaand there it is!"

* * *

 

The command bridge was eerily quiet, Murphy noted as he entered, everyone else having beat him to the punch. He'd been in the bar, trying to get some R&R before the operation- shit, he still had his cigar in his mouth, and his beer in his hand. Figured it would just be a check in or something.

That was obviously not the case.

Setting the bottle gently on a console, trying to be nonchalant about it, the Aussie took a long drag of his cuban before walking over to the rest of the squad leaders. Duvalier had dragged Phillipe along, and although Bradford wasn't too thrilled about it, he didn't send him packing. Adam looked a bit nervous, tapping his foot and palming the revolver in his right hip holster. Wolf Mother didn't seem much more at ease, either, leaning up against the Hologlobe with a look somewhere between 'worried sick' and 'pissed beyond measure.' One of the bridge crew- must have been 'Stark', was standing with them, a wiry, lanky gentleman with curly brown hair and a beard flecked with gray. He had one of those old-timey boat pipes, which gave Murph a slight, very much needed moment of levity at how ridiculous it looked.

"What's the occasion, Central?" he asked, as he approached the motley crew that made up the 'officers' of this outfit.

"Christmas Party. Where's your present?" Remi asked, rolling his eyes.

"Like I'd give any of you jack shit."

"What an irredeemable asshole. I hope you suffer a horrible, excruciating, and drawn out demise."

"Same to you mate."

Remi smirked, rolling his eyes as he turned to look at Bradford, who was fiddling with a computer. As usual, he was doing horribly.

"Hang on, I got it," Stark muttered, nudging the Central Officer out of the way as he managed to boot up... whatever it was they were trying to boot up in two keystrokes.

"I hate computers," Bradford muttered, before turning back to his men. "Alright. The Commander will be here shortly, so I'll go ahead and start briefing you on the situation. Sergeant Jones and Lieutenant MacAuley accompanied me on our recent mission, operation Silent Serpent. While we were unable to complete our objective- Doctor Vahlen had already left the site- we were able to find some of Vahlen's logs in the ruined facility. A few of these logs detailed such things as personnel, guard rotations, and information on some new sort of creature that the aliens apparently accidentally pulled through their psionic warps. While we can't quite act on most of this intel, we do have something very, very interesting. One of the facility guards was a man by the name of Colonel Ezekiel Collins, a former member of the original XCOM's Strike One strike team."

Adam looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"But, it gets better," Bradford continued, nodding at someone over the group's shoulder. Commander must have arrived. "Collins was not among the bodies present at the facility, and shortly after the operation, he was spotted just outside of the Humanity Falls enclave. In fact, that's where he is right now."

"Zeke's alive?" Adam asked, quietly, uncharacteristically so. It was as if he couldn't believe it. "Has he contacted us?"

"Getting to that, Jones. Stark, get me Den Mother. Let's see if we can get some contact. You're gonna want to hear what he has to say."

The large screen across the room from the Hologlobe began to flicker with static, drawing the attention of the troops in the room, particularly Adam, who pretty much power-walked over to it like someone'd lit a fire under his ass. Murph saw no harm in following, and soon enough, everyone else did too.

"Stark?" Bradford called out, looking at the static himself.

"Workin' on it. Shit's pretty finicky today. The new comms center is still being calibrated. Alright! Got a signal. Patching through."

The screen slowly cleared, revealing an overcast evening back at home base. Standing in front of the screen was a man with curly, obviously dyed brown hair, eerily pink-violet eyes, and a smirk that screamed 'asshole'. Murphy didn't recognize the guy, but Adam certainly did.

"He's still bloody kickin'," Adam muttered. "I don't know how, but he's still alive."

_"Yes, I am somehow still alive. Good to see you again, Central, Invic. I do hope I have not been missed too much."_

"You have no idea, Colonel. So, tell us the news."

Ezekiel yawned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his bag around off his back, digging through it as he started to speak. His voice carried a very slight country accent, and he had the inflection and timbre of some sort of shady used car salesman. Murph already wasn't a huge fan.  _"So, for those of you who are not already in the know, I'm Colonel Ezekiel Collins, formerly of XCOM, most recently of Doctor Moira Vahlen's security detail. I was helping her run security and interference for her research installation while she was working on all manner of ungodly garbage. Until one day, you see, our security team got her a very, VERY special research project. The aliens had captured some sort of bad motherfucker in Mexico- black as the pit of hell, stunk like a skunk, and had the bedside disposition of a rabid pitbull crossed with an upper-middle class soccer mom. This thing had been modified by the aliens in a similar manner to the Alien Rulers, meaning it could use Psi Warps to pull itself out of harms way and retreat to God-knows-where. Now, you see... I know where, because Doctor Vahlen and I were caught in one such incident- specifically, one where said monstrosity broke itself out of containment."_

"Vahlen's alive, then."

_"I can't confirm that. I never saw her after we got sucked in. Anyways, I ended up on a planet relatively far from our own, one I'm sure you've heard of from what sounds like a couple of new friends of ours. In fact, I'm familiar with them myself. Ladies, Gentlemen, and Commander Cheng... I just got back from a lovely little two week vacation on planet Remnant."_

"You have  _got_ to be kidding," Murphy muttered.

Adam looked like he'd been slapped in the face. Evidently, he couldn't believe it himself. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

_"Somehow, this thing's presence fucked with the Alien Rulers' Psi Warp calibration. You see, now the fuckers think they're going home, but in reality, they're going to Remnant. And MAN, let me tell you, I think they have it easier here. I ran into some... unsavory figures during my stay that managed to capture one of Vahlen's test subjects for their own nefarious uses, but that's not my problem. What matters is this- your little refugees? We can get them home with just a little bit of balls, and a whole lot of luck."_

"All due respect, Colonel Collins," Wolf Mother interrupted, "but you sound full of shit. How are we supposed to believe you went to another planet?"

_"Knew you'd say that, which is why I brought souvenirs! Tell me, ma'ams and sirs, does this pretty face look familiar to you?"_

Ezekiel pulled a smashed-up cardboard box out of his pack, sticking his fist in it to try and pop it back out.  _"Also, this cereal tastes like fuckin' diabetes."_

"You got a cereal box," Remi stated, his voice going flat. "Your proof is a cereal box."

_"My PROOF, Frenchie-"_

"Belgian."

_"My PROOF, Waffle Boy, is the face on this cereal box. As I was saying..."_

Ezekiel brought the box back into frame, revealing it to be 'Pumpkin Pete's'. The box was a mishmash of orange and red pastels, looked like something out of the 80s, and on the front of the box was the face of none other than Pyrrha. Underneath that familiar face was some text- "Four Time Mistral Combat Tournament champion." She'd been telling the truth. They all had. They were really aliens.

Murphy whistled bemusedly. "Guess you got our attention now."

"Well, they weren't lying, then," Adam agreed. "They really are from another planet."

"So we gotta beat up an alien and force them to pull up a portal to another planet. Seems too easy," Wolf Mother spoke up again. "Too many variables."

_"It's the only chance they've got. But, uh, fellas. I have a proposition I'd like to make."_

"Let's hear it, Colonel," Central replied.

_"I don't think we should send them home. As a matter of fact..."_

Ezekiel grinned.

_"I think we may just have won the war."_

Bradford opened his mouth, obviously ready to shut that shit down, but the Commander stopped him, stepping into the front of the group and putting her hand up.

"Colonel, you mind elaborating on what you just said?"

_"With pleasure, Commander. You see, those 4? Not the only ones of their kind. In fact, not even the best of them. There are hundreds, HUNDREDS of those 'Huntsmen'- and that's not even counting the ones that are kids like them. And there are search parties looking all over for them. You see, I'm thinkin', if we manage to make a means of communication with this here planet, we might be able to not only give these kids a way home... we might get some very, VERY powerful equalizers."_

"I'll admit, you haven't really sold me on this idea, Colonel. Seems like you're banking a lot on them assuming you're not hostile."

_"I met a bunch of wanted criminals. I think if I turn them in, I suddenly gain a lot of pull as a law-abiding citizen. Besides, nobody'll know the difference between me and them- that Aura shit? It's the same sort of energy as Psionic energy."_

Bradford stepped forward again. "These kids are Psi-capable?"

_"No, no, you misunderstood. Aura IS Psi Energy. They're harnessing it in a totally different manner than we do. I don't know how, in my amateur opinion, I think it might be a biological difference, but they have a TON of Psionic potential on tap at any given time. They could probably dominate a Sectoid with no trouble, if it came to a battle of the minds. "_

"So you're telling me we have a bunch of child soldiers with ridiculous Psionic abilities, and a whole army of equally, if not more talented soldiers backing them up?" the Commander asked.

_"Long and short of it."_

"I'm vetoing this plan."

_"May I ask why?"_

"No way I'm putting these kids, or anyone else who's not involved, in harm's way. The risks outweigh the benefits. I don't want the Elders knocking down their door, too."

_"Alright, Commander. You do you. I was just offering my two-cents."_

With that, Collins gave a sloppy salute.  _"That's all from me. I'll see you when you get back from your little operation. Save me a seat. Collins out."_

The feed cut, and the screen went dark. As everyone processed the information, Remi and Phil were the first to react.

"Commander, permission to speak freely?" 

"Permission granted, Sergeant Duvalier."

"Are you a FUCKING IDIOT!?"

The Commander actually  _smirked,_ leaning back a little bit. "Little bit  _too_ free there."

"Okay, I'm not in a joking mood. From what it sounds like, we just got handed the war on a silver platter, and you TURNED IT DOWN!?"

"I gotta admit, that's how I'm seeing it, too," Wolf Mother agreed. "I'm not trying to come off as insubordinate, Commander, but this is gonna bite us in the ass if we don't take it."

"No. Absolutely not. We said we were getting them home, and that's what we're doing," Bradford cut in. "We're not going to get them or theirs killed just because we wanna take the easy way out."

"'Any tactical advantage you can take,' Central," Remi countered, stepping up to the officer, with Phil ready to step in behind him at any given moment. "ANY FUCKING TACTICAL ADVANTAGE, SIR, AND THIS IS A FUCKING HUGE ONE."

"I'm with Central. I don't want them here, and they don't want to be here. We're still a long ways away from ending the war. We've only just gotten around to analyzing the vial we recovered from the ADVENT Blacksite, we're still trying to get the Skulljack on the table, and ADVENT's getting bolder than ever. We can't afford to be babysitting."

"We can't afford to turn down superweapons, either."

"They're people, Remi," Murphy finally spoke up, only to be very brusquely cut off.

"No. They're not. WE are people."

"You'd best watch your step, mate," Murphy warned the Belgian. "Treadin' on awfully thin ice."

"Oh, what are you going to do about it? You're no friend of theirs, yourself."

"No. I'm not. But they bleed red, just like us. They act like us, walk like us, talk like us, and they've been on their best behavior the entire time they've been here. They don't need to stay here any longer than they have to- they're probably homesick as it is."

"Then let them catch their own fucking ride, because I'm not losing another one of my men just so they can get a free one."

"This isn't about a free ride. They have no idea where they are, or what they're up against. If we throw them out on their own, they're dead, and neither of us get what we want."

"And yet you're the one who has them on his fireteam for the next op. Pot calling the kettle black, eh?"

"Duvalier. Watch it."

"No, Oz,  _you_ watch it."

With that, Remi shoved past Murph and stormed towards the exit, Phil worriedly hurrying after him. The Commander followed, muttering curses under her breath.

"All due respect, Central, I'm gonna leave this farce myself."

"Dismissed, Wolf Mother."

With that, she took her own leave, leaving only Stark, Murph, Adam, and Bradford, and the ambient sounds of the Bridge- the hustle and bustle had died down the moment the argument broke out.

Adam spoke up first. "So, what now?"

"Have to admit, they have a point." Central sighed, his voice low and measured. He sounded like he wasn't really enjoying the call he and Cheng were having to make, which made sense. It was the possible lives of his men versus the lives of 4 teenagers. Murph had made that kind of call before, and he still asked himself if it was the right one. He didn't regret it, no, but he still wondered. He knew Central'd been making much harder ones since then. "They could turn the tide of the war in our favor, easily, if Zeke was telling the truth."

"But is it worth putting them at risk?" Adam asked.

"You seem awfully concerned, Adam. Just the other day you wanted to beat the hell out of them." 

"I know. I just... I can't stand them, and I want them gone, but, at the same time, I sympathize with them. They're in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people that to them, probably aren't much like normal people."

"Adam," Bradford started, but Adam continued anyway.

"I can't stand any of them  being here any longer than they have to be. I've got enough on my plate- on top of what I said earlier, I talked to Tygan. The genetic modifications are starting to degrade, and they could possibly take me down with them. I'm on borrowed time now, and if we can put this to bed before we lose more men, myself included, then everything points at us taking that opportunity."

Bradford nodded. "The lives of the many versus the lives of the few."

"And Remi isn't alone on that feelin' he has. Jack doesn't think of 'em as humans, hell, I think Jerry and Rod might be the only ones who treat them like normal people. We all handle them with gloves, like we're scared of what they could do to us. We've been burned before- hard. We don't wanna take that chance again. At the same time, though, they had the choice to help us when the Avenger went down."

"And they did. Without asking any questions of us."

"Aye. If we asked them to stay, I'd bet they'd at least give it thought."

"I don't want to put that choice on them. They're too young to be throwing their lives on the line." Bradford rolled his wrists, a tic Murphy'd noticed shortly after the two men met in the old Sydney Sewers- whenever he was nervous, he'd just start rolling, and rolling, and rolling until they started to pop and snap with the effort. Then he'd go the other way. He had to admit, his nerves were starting to get to him."

"From what it sounds like, they'll be doing that whether we send them home or not," Adam countered.

"Got a point, there."

"Tell you what, gents. I have an idea."

"A good one?"

"Maybe. We should have our men socialize with them a bit, Murphy. Get them to open up a bit, make the kids feel comfortable around us. Try and make an effort to let our guards down."

"What brought this on? Just the other day you wanted to shoot them," Murphy reminded him, this time more jokingly than the last.

"I want to shoot myself instead," Adam replied, giving a wan smile and slapping the revolver on his hip. "Once my head clears up, I'll be back to my old self. Kids better enjoy it while it lasts."

"I know I will," Murph joked. "We dismissed, Central?" 

"You two go on. I like your plan. Execute it."

The two men nodded, and walked away. Something about what Adam said was nagging at Murphy, though, and it wasn't just the talk of gene mods. It was sort of a command secret that Adam was a guinea pig for Vahlen back during the war, but the process was never perfected, and instead dropped in favor of the Firestorm, the Avenger, and other projects of the like. It was unstable stuff, literally splicing alien DNA with Adam's own. The fact that not only was the man alive, but he was actually fighting fit, and fighting like someone twice his size and half his age, was stunning to Murphy. This Vahlen was as good as everyone said she was.

"Oi, Adam." Murphy grabbed his beer by the door, and put out his cigar on the rim of it, before taking the last swig and dropping it into the bottle. "Question for ya."

"Answer for ya."

"Dunno if you'll have one this time. What you said earlier, about sympathizin' with 'em-"

"We've been there, haven't we, Murphy? Us, Lawrence, Remi, Central. We've been there."

Murphy understood it now. He remembered when the war ended. Murphy hadn't gone immediately into resistance. He'd waited a while, tried to just live with the fact that the aliens were in charge now. He remembers walking down the streets of the new and improved Sydney a few months after the war- Toowoomba had been forcibly evacuated, never to be heard from again. He remember the sterile streets, the glistening spires of futuristic alien alloys and metals, and the feeling that no matter how many signs he looked at, he was as far away from Australia as he could physically be. That's why he'd gone to the Outback, rallied with his boys. That was why... well. That was why things went the way they did.

"Yeah... Yeah, I s'pose we do. Oi, Adam. What do you think the drinking age is where they're from?"

"Beats me."

"Well, a little hair of the dog never hurt anyone."

The two vets smirked at each other, both of them coming to the same conclusion at the exact same time. Adam quickly went to his earpiece.

"Lawrence, cancel that last order. Bring the kids, meet us in the bar. Bring Hitman with you."

 

 


	9. Robot Rock, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Social Hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ambient: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsD6uEZsIsU
> 
> Declan's Exhibition: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQ9PRzIyzFA

The Bar was much more crowded than usual, what with two whole fireteams plus Team JNPR inside. It was obvious the little hole in the wall wasn't designed for a large crowd, but sure enough, Lawrence had scooted around, made room, and fiddled with seating and tables until everyone had sitting room. 

Pyrrha wasn't huge on the idea of hanging out here, and to be fair, neither was Jaune. But, again, they were asked to come along. Would be kind of rude, and maybe a little bit suspicious, to just shut that down. Besides, they didn't HAVE to drink. It's just that most everyone was. Declan was the one person that WASN'T holding a glass full of something, instead choosing to pick at his guitar and play a song Jaune didn't recognize. It was nice, bright, but at the same time, sort of wistful. He idly followed Declan's motions over the strings, trying to commit them to memory. Maybe he'd ask Declan to teach it to him.  Not right now, though. He seemed into it.

Pyrrha was sat next to him at the small table Lawrence had set up right next to the bar, and Roderick sat across from them. Nora and Ren sat at the bar, the latter insisting that none of them, especially Nora, needed alcohol.  
  
"He has an electric, too, but the ship can't afford to divert any power to something like an amp system," Roderick explained, evidently noting that Jaune was focused on the guitar. "Plus, the noise would kill us in here."

"Remember that time he played Rage?" Jerry asked from behind him, smiling. "Man, that was somethin'."

"Which song was that again?"

Declan answered mid-song without missing a beat. "Township Rebellion."

"Yep, one of the best. What all can you play on electric? Culture these kids, man," Jerry insisted, winking at the two partners. He evidently really enjoyed Declan's guitar work. 

"Rage, Pantera, pretty much any heavy shit you can think of. Little bit of country. Some pop rock garbage. That one Katy Perry song."

"Which 'one Katy Perry song?'"

"I ain't playin' that garbage again, I did it for my woman once."

"I'm not asking you to play it, Declan, I'm asking you which one."

"... the one about the lesbians."

Alexios snorted, spitting out some of his beer as he went into a laughing fit. "Oh, SHIT, man, you're OLD AS FUCK."  
  
"It has a nice fuckin' groove for pop crap, okay!?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."  
  
"Play somethin' for me, Jaune-boy," Declan piped up, offering the guitar to him, but he shook his head. One, he was rusty, and two, he didn't really know if Declan would react well to how Jaune played. Some people were very, VERY passionate about technique.

"Suit yourself. You may be the missing piece, boy."

"Missing piece?"

"Yep. You see, I'm gonna start me a little band when this shit is over, but I gotta start tourin' with what I got, opening up shows-"

"Declan, there's no concerts to open," Alexios said through barely-stifled chuckles. "What're you gonna do? Walk from place to place?"  
  
"Nah, man. Jerry can sing pretty well, I've heard him serenading Sophie-"

"Declan, it's not like that."  
  
"-I bet, bitch. As I was saying, he can sing, Adam was in a men's choir, Philly can play a mean bass from what I've heard, and you can teach a brain-dead monkey how to play the drums. Jaune can be my rhythm guitarist! Whaddya say? Could be fun!"  
  
"They're gonna be gone before the war's over, Declan."  
  
"Only if he wants! He can stick around as a favor for me saving his ass."  
  
"But, Corporal Delacroix... I believe we were the ones who rescued you and your team from the Grimm."  
  
Alexios, Jerry, Roderick, Jaune and Declan all looked at Pyrrha, who just smiled nervously.

"She's got a point," Jerry said, sneering at the guitarist, who spit on the floor in Jerry's general direction.  
  
"I had his ass," Declan protested, "I had him dead to fuckin' rights before they killed it. Was gonna mount his damn head over my bunk."

"Unfortunately, that's impossible," Ren interrupted, turning over his shoulder to meet Declan's glare. "Grimm dissolve upon death. There isn't anything left to mount."

"Son of a BITCH! There goes that idea."  
  
"Poor, poor Declan. Can't even kill things right anymore," Sophie fake-lamented from the other side of Ren and Nora. "You must be so disappointed that you can't exercise your psychopathy in a constructively destructive manner-"

"Silence, whore."

Sophie rolled her eyes, while Declan looked over at Ren, leaning over in his chair to the point the thing was balanced on two legs. "Do you have ANYTHING that I can mount on my wall?"

"Remnant has plenty of wild game. The Grimm tend to leave them alone for the most part."  
  
"Shiiiiiiiiiit. Might have to take me with you when you go back, then. Ain't ever had fresh deer meat."  
  
"You've never had real deer meat, period. ADVENT's taken out almost all the wild game on the planet." Lawrence explained, presumably for JNPR's benefit. "Might find a dog or a bear every once and a while, but very rarely do you see any more than that."

"All the livestock is gone," Alexios continued, "but stuff still lives out in the wild. Just a lot less of it, now. Eventually it'll all go extinct. Imagine that- we free humanity from their chains, and we're still stuck with synthetic meat and ADVENT burgers."

"Don't even TRY to make me thing of that," Sophie grumbled, "I swear, I'll kill myself right now."

"I just realized, I don't think Sophie is old enough to remember REAL food," Roderick spoke up, pointing to Jerry. "Aren't you both mid-twenties?"

"I'm just about to turn twenty," Sophie stated, drawing confused looks from everyone who wasn't Joseph Walker- one of the members of Hitman Team, Murphy's group, that JNPR hadn't met yet. Joseph just looked smug and stuck out his hands, making a 'give me' gesture.

"I tol' you lot, I told all of ye. Suck ma bollocks, ya inconsiderate numpties."

"Fuck off, Jo," Declan replied, throwing up a middle finger.

"Only if ye beg."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaalrighty, I think the both of you don't need to touch the liquor," Bridget -the other new face- insisted, stepping between the two and reaching for their glasses. "Come on, nice and easy..."

While the two men continued to volley insults over each other, and Bridget, Jaune couldn't help but wonder why a certain pair weren't in the room, especially considering it was their orders that led to the whole impromptu party thing in the bar.

'Hey, uh, Roderick? Jerry? Do you guys know where Murphy and Adam are?" he asked. The two men looked back at Jaune, turning away from the commotion, before looking at each other.

"Did they come in from that meeting yet?" 

"Don't think so, Jerry."  
  
"Huh. Wonder what was so important."  
  
"Pardon me for asking, but why would they ask you to force us into this without showing up themselves? It seems to defeat the purpose." Pyrrha wasn't beating around the bush- Jaune knew she wasn't a fan of alcohol, and she certainly wasn't a fan of Adam. She was probably seeing things that weren't there to be seen.

"Because... I don't know. Why would he suddenly decide to play nice?" Jerry asked, seemingly more to himself than anyone at the table.

"I have no clue. It doesn't really make sense," Roderick agreed. "Something's going on here. Also, why only us? Why not Assassin, too?"

"Why not Marksman while we're at it?" Jerry continued, nodding. "Whatever they got called in about, it's about you kids."

"You think so?" Jaune tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. Sure, JNPR's presence on the ship wasn't exactly the most welcome one, but... surely they weren't THAT high on their list of priorities. Were they? Or was there something these 'XCOM' guys were playing at that they didn't know? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to find out right now. Thankfully, his train of thought was interrupted by the door to the bar opening.

"Speak of the devil, and they shall appear!" Roderick shouted, throwing a hand up. "Lieutenant!"

Murphy stepped in first, tipping his strange little cap, and another man followed him, carrying a case of something on his back. 

"Connie!" Roderick shouted, throwing a hand up and grinning ear to ear. "My man!"  
  
"Don't thank me yet, Roderick. I have no idea if this shit is any good," the man replied, turning his attention to JNPR, one after the other, finally settling on Jaune. He had soft, dark green eyes that looked almost like they were flecked with gold in the dim lighting of the room. Unlike most of the men, he was completely clean-shaven, and had a neat, well-groomed head of dark brown, almost black hair.   
  
"So, you're the kids I was told about?" he asked, or at least, that's what it sounded like- whatever kind of accent he had, it was so thick that Jaune could barely understand it. Some kind of regional dialect, maybe? "Apologies if some of my comrades have been a bit brusque with you, I assure you, you are among friends here! I am Konskatin Afanasyev. A pleasure to meet the four of you, at last!"  
  
"Uh, hi!" Jaune replied, smiling nervously as the man slammed the case onto the bar, and threw out his arms. 

"Tell me, young man! Your name, Jaune, yes? Have you ever been drunk?"

"No, sir. We're not old enough to drink... where we're from, anyway."

"Actually," Ren stated, "the drinking age in Mistral is 16. As such, all of us are technically legal but you."

"We're not in Mistral."

"Fair. Mr. Afanasyev, do you know the drinking age for this...'country'?"

"Mr. Oddly Colored Pink Eyes, do you know if you can hold a bottle?"

"...yes, I can."

"Then congratulations! You're legal here! Quickly, take! I have no idea if it's any good, but we shall soon find out together, comrades! To your health!"

With that, the man smacked the case on a large black trigger on the handle, and it opened to reveal a small fog of cold air, and about 20 bottles of a nondescript liquor. It was clear like water, but only an idiot would believe that's what was in the case.  
  
Surprisingly to Jaune, from what he'd assumed about the group, hardly anybody got anything to drink. Only Murphy, Konstatin, Alexios, Lawrence, and Roderick grabbed anything, and even then, Lawrence and Alex didn't get much at all. Konstatin seemed shocked, too, maybe even a little indignant.

"Ah, come on! Surely you're thirsty!"

"I'm a teetotaler, same with Jerry," Declan replied. "Well, at least, I'm  _tryin_ '. "

"Since Jerry doesn't like it that much, I usually don't drink in front of 'im," Sophie explained. "W-well, same with Declan. And Adam."

" No offense, mate, but when I get hammered, I get a wee bit too handsy," Joseph explained.

"I'd rather not, thanks. God knows what's in the swill we get from these 'home breweries,'" Bridget turned up her nose at the stuff, as if just looking at the case put a sour taste in her mouth.

"Hey, besides, if we get too sloshed, we can't tell 'em all about our lovely little shithole of a planet," Alexios spoke up, smirking at Lawrence.

"Hey, it's OUR shithole planet!" Declan protested.

"That doesn't make it any less sh- **sucky** to live here," Jerry retorted, before turning to Jaune. "I'm gonna be real with you, man- you picked the wrong portal to walk through."

"I mean, you told us things were pretty bad here, what, with the alien invasion and all-"

"OH, he thinks THAT'S the beginning of our problems?" Roderick shouted, slamming his cup against the table as he went to sit back down. "Oh, oh, you  **SWEET** SUMMER CHILD."

"Man," Jack agreed, "there were ayy infiltrators in our society since the Egyptians! This world's been fucked!"

"Well, while I don't agree with Sagole's way of putting it... yeah. We've been in bad straights since as long ago as I can remember, and past that. Tell you what, kids. How about we tell you about our world, and you tell us about yours. Just as an icebreaker. Sound good?"

Jaune looked at the rest of his team, who all seemed to be... accepting of the idea, at worst. To be fair, this would probably help with the trust thing. 

"Yeah, sure. I don't see any harm."

"Rad." Alexios leaned over the bar, raising an eyebrow. "So, you said your place is called 'Remnant,' right? Odd name for a planet."

"I mean, it seems normal to me. Earth sounds kinda weird, just naming your planet after... you know, dirt."  
  
"I mean, really, all Earth is is a giant, wet dirtball full of savage animals whipping around the sun like a stripper on a pole." Declan rolled his eyes, kicking up his feet on his table. "Remnant's got a sun and shit, right?"

"Remnant's a lot like 'Earth', from what I've seen of it so far," Ren spoke up, "in fact, I originally believed we might just be on some unexplored island or something. A lot of our world is still being settled."

"So you guys are like... 1800s Earth, but with 22nd century tech, or something," Jerry mused. "Ain't that somethin'. You said something about a 'Mistral' earlier. That's the name of a city?"

"A Kingdom," Pyrrha explained. "Remnant's population settled into four Kingdoms long ago to protect ourselves against the Grimm. There was Vale, Mantle, Mistral, and Vacuo."

"So which are you guys from?" 

"Myself, Ren, and Nora are from Mistral, and Jaune is from Vale."

"Nice. So, these Kingdoms work together, or are they like... separate entities entirely?"

"Well, after the Great War, everyone decided to start trying to work together again," Jaune continued in Pyrrha's stead. "But before that, only Mistral and Mantle really had close ties, if I remember history lessons correctly."

"The Great War?" Declan asked.

"People killin' people, no matter what planet it's on," Lawrence muttered.

"We got a great war too, but ours is pretty far back in the past. Anyway, keep going, you got my interest." Jerry watched Jaune with rapt attention, while the rest of the room were in various states between 'listening, but not giving a shit' and 'sort of interested'. Jaune swallowed silently, hoping that he remembered all this stuff from Glynda's classes correctly, or that Pyrrha, who seemed to know  _freaking everything_ , would correct him if he screwed up.

"Yeah, okay. So, a while back, Mantle decided that they had an idea on how to fight the Grimm. They'd had a lot of discontent and negativity in their kingdom, and that kind of stuff attracts Grimm, so they figured that, if they didn't give people reasons to be uncomfortable, they'd stop the Grimm. They heavily restricted and censored art, music, and creative thought, and Mistral kind of went along with it. Vale was against this because, well, Mantle and Mistral both allowed slave labor and treated the poor people in their kingdoms like garbage, so they basically told them to stop it. Mantle didn't, and instead demanded that some islands be handed over to them. The King of Vale just kind of let it happen, but the people living on the island got mad, and tried to fight. That's how the Great War started."

"Pray, where did these 'Vacuo' folk factor in?" Konstatin asked. "You didn't mention them."

"Vacuo was neutral, but when the war started, they realized that if Mistral and Mantle conquered Vale, there wouldn't be anyone left to stop them from conquering Vacuo. The war went on for ten years, until people decided it just wasn't worth fighting anymore."

"You said something about Grimm being attracted to negativity?" Murphy raised an eyebrow, speaking slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure he believed that. "... then why the hell did they go to bloody war? Make everyone miserable? Wouldn't that get them more riled up?"

"Exactly. All the people strong enough to defend their homes and villages and cities from the Grimm were off at war, so a lot of places were lost to the Grimm. A lot of people never got to go back home, and sometimes there would be ceasefires while everyone worked together to fight off the Grimm. I think that's why the war ended... because people were so tired of fighting the Grimm that they figured fighting each other was just a waste of energy better used elsewhere. So many people died fighting each other, there almost wasn't enough left to protect them from the Grimm"

"Pretty much the shot in the arm we got, huh, Murph?" Roderick asked, and Murphy nodded.

"It's amazin' what impending annihilation can do for one's point of view. So, what then?"

"The King of Vale got them to meet on a neutral island- Vytal- and make a peace treaty. They abolished slavery, reinstated democratic rule through councils, and established the Huntsman Academies in each Kingdom- Atlas in Mantle, Haven in Mistral, Shade in Vacuo, and Beacon in Vale."

"Sounds like y'all got it worked out okay," Declan surmised, smirking. "Must be nice."

"Yeah. After the war had happened, people were naming their kids after colors, arts, and figures from legends and histories, as a way of keeping expression and identity alive after a whole war was started over trying to repress it."

"That sounds pretty cool. Just spittin' in the face of it like that," Sophie mused. "Just sayin' 'fuck the war, let's be happy for a change'."

"Yeah. We've still gotta deal with the Grimm, but... well, everyone gets along pretty good nowadays."

"Pardon my interruption, but..." Pyrrha started. Jaune couldn't help but notice she'd been watching him with a little bit of a smile on her face. He must have gotten it right. Looking at her, though, she kinda just awkwardly looked off at Alexios, as if she didn't want Jaune to notice. "You said something about a Great War here?"

"That was Jerry."

"Yeah, there was," Jerry explained. "It's a really, really long and complicated story, but basically, a bunch of countries were angry at each other about a bunch of different things. Some wanted independence, others wanted land, some wanted oil, some wanted to fight for the heck of fighting... and then, one guy got mad enough, and shot the ruler of another country. It all just... blew up. Lasted for about 4 years. Killed millions of people. We got together after the war, punished the person who we 'claimed' was responsible, and swore it would never happen again... and then, well... it happened again. Not even 30 years later, it happened again. And it was still happening up until the end. Every year, it seemed like, someone had a bone to pick with someone else. Someone wanted somebody else dead. Whole races of people were put in camps and exterminated just for being the wrong type of person. We made weapons capable of wiping cities off the map, and then nearly blew ourselves to shit with them. The only reason we hadn't had a Third Great War is because if we did, humanity would have nuked itself back into the Cambrian."

"What Jerry's gettin' at is that if we sat here and told you about how much life sucked before the aliens showed up, you'd be here all day." Alexios sighed, shaking his head. "And people didn't learn from it even at the last fucking second."

"For all the faults," Lawrence stated, quietly, "at least the aliens gave us a common cause. Something to work together for, even if it was only for a year."

Declan jumped out of his chair. throwing up his hands, and shouting at the top of his lungs.

"AAAAAAAAAAALRIGHTY, this shit's depressing. Maybe one day, when we done fucked the Elders in the ass and broke all their shiny toys, we can tell these kids how much life used to suck while we sip martinis on the beach. How about we tell 'em about US. Not Earth, us." 

"Us? Like, our life stories?" Sophie asked, incredulous.

"I mean, shit, let's depress them even more if we do that. No, I mean the good stuff. Like, what we used to do for a livin', our families, our hobbies, shit like that."

"I'd certainly like to hear more about you all," Pyrrha agreed readily, nodding a little bit too quickly. It was obvious she didn't mind the change of subject.

"Sounds cool! Were any of you like, doctors, or lawyers, or  _super secret mercenaries working for the government_?" Nora was off like a verbal machine-gun already, which drew a chuckle from Lawrence.

"I mean, I wasn't a mercenary," Lawrence answered, "but I was Special Forces. Back in my halcyon days, I was what we call a "Delta Force Operator." Was trained to fight and win no matter what the odds. Served from the late 90s to the end of the Alien Invasion."

"I was in college to get my medical degree," Jerry followed. "Got about halfway through my internship before I quit."

"I was just a traveler," said Sophie.

"I played on the gridiron for 5 years, then got into acting," said Roderick. "I'll have to show you kids one of my movies."

"I was in the military. Special Operations Engineering Regiment. I was basically the support staff to Australia's Special Forces," said Murphy. 

"Talk show radio host, man!" said Jack. "One of the most popular on the islands! Hawaiian Islands, specifically. Mostly Oahu... pretty much just Oahu."

"I designed computer programs," said Alexios, "even spoke at a few tech conferences."

"I worked for 'im!" Joseph smiled up at Alexios, who nodded back at him.

"I was a... personal assistant," Bridget slowly spoke up, before pointing threateningly at Declan, who was about to say something.

"... I played guitar in a band," he stated, cooly, all the while smirking at Bridget. 

"And I was a representative of our xenos oppressors for about 10 shitty years of my life!" Konstatin butted in, loud as thunder. "I was a presenter on the evening news back in Yekatarinburg."

"We're an eclectic mix, sure," Alexios continued. "If you'd have met us in our old lives, you probably never could have seen us together. Most of us, anyway." 

Jerry and Alexios looked at each other. The latter grinned, while the former looked as if he might burst into flames.

"Alex."

"Jeremiah."

"It's 'Jeremy'."

Alexios started laughing, as did Lawrence and Roderick, the latter slapping Jaune on the back with the force to rival an Ursa. Jaune let out a hacking cough that shook enough to sound like he might be trying to laugh, but he sure wasn't feeling funny. Pyrrha and Nora both looked confused, but Ren was actually... chuckling along?

"See! My boy gets it!" Lawrence shouted, now grinning ear to ear, which was probably the most Jaune had ever seen the man emote in the two or three days since they'd met, "He already knows! It's not even his planet, he's never met you in his life, and he already knows!"

"Okay, shut up!"  Jerry protested. "I don't get what's so funny about this to you!"

"EVERYTHIN' ABOUT IT, J!" Declan guffawed.

"Give me my fuckin' money, Murph!" Jack hollered, slapping his hand against the bar and reaching out to Murphy. "I told you, bro, I TOLD you this would happen!"

Murphy sighed, pulling out some sort of plastic card. "Always does."

What the heck were they even talking about?

* * *

Meanwhile, in science, Tygan examined the schematics placed in front of him. It was another one of Quoruz' outlandish ideas, but this time... this time, it had some merit behind it. Especially that they now had something to work with as far as a prototype. Technically, at least.

"So, Dr. Quoruz... would you care to explain what exactly this is?"

"Well, sir, I believe we finally have a way to take Project Sparta off the drawing board. You see, that kid with the sword and board didn't show off a little bonus feature his shield had. Idris found it while he was fooling around and trying to get a sample of the metal for testing. You see, the shield has a hollow channel in the center of it to act as a sheath for the sword, but that's not what's interesting- the shield is also segmented- it can compress itself down to the size of a long sheath, for ease of carry."

"So you believe we can co-opt this design to give our soldiers a personal shield?" Tygan asked.

"Well, there's one problem... the thing's too big. I don't think we can make the design smaller right now, either."

"So you're saying it's impractical."  
  
"I'm saying that we would have to give them to some of our stronger field operatives. Say, the Grenadiers, or some of the Rangers."

"I still don't believe this is worth our resources, Dr. Quoruz. We still have to-"

"Dr. Tygan, please. I know it seems farfetched, but just... think for a minute. This could work, if you gave me a chance, and time. Since we already have a shield to work with, it would only take a couple of days. Then, as time goes on, I can work on downsizing it, or at least specializing it to where it can fit some sort of tactical niche."

"... very well, Dr. Quoruz. I'll allow you to complete your research on Project Sparta. However, know that your project is on the lowest level of priority- should other projects arise, you'll have to set it aside."

"I understand, Dr. Tygan. Thank you, sir."

Tygan nodded, before heading back to his work elsewhere. He still needed to see if there was something he could do about the power supply, on top of keeping a distant but watchful eye over Michelle. She was more enthusiastic about this 'Remnant' technology than he'd ever seen her excited about anything else, and although Tygan agreed that the possible applications were astounding, it was still a lot of risk involved. The shield was probably the  _easiest_ thing to translate into Earth tech, and it still wouldn't be a cakewalk- Tygan had yet to see any sort of deployable shield in his lifetime, other than the energy shields used by the ADVENT Shieldbearers. A physical shield would certainly be more durable, but were it to be too heavy, there would be no point in carrying the thing into the field. They were stealth operators and guerrilla fighters, not riot police.  
  
Actually... come to think of it, there was a few things he could do. He'd speak to Michelle about it later. For now, he had other business to attend to.

* * *

"Sacre tabernak, Phillipe, again?" Remi asked, watching over his second with a look of... well, pity. Of course Remi pitied him. Look at him, 23 years old and nearly pissing himself every night because of one little bad dream, one that would likely never come to pass. Was he just a fucking joke now?

The rest of Assassin team was not normally present for such outbursts, but this time, both Cody and Emma were present. Luckily for him, they'd understood since back at the prison- hell, Emma was his cellmate. For someone who rarely spoke, she seemed better able to comfort Phil through these trying times than even Remi. Too bad she vacillated between French and Flemish so often, otherwise he might actually understand what the fuck he was saying.

"Shit, man, you really been havin' it the last couple nights," Cody murmured. "Wonder what devil's gotten into you?"

"... I don't know. It's more vivid, now."

"Still the same stuff, though?" 

"Oui. Same cathedral... but, not a cathedral. Interior looks like a school. It's not on fire, but I smell smoke. There's a couple of familiar faces, but not many."

"Who'd you see?"

"I can make out Alexios, Jeremy, and Joseph from Hitman, and Adam and Lawrence from Menace. And you, Remi."

"Hm. Odd. I don't think you even speak to Lawrence."

"Peux-tu tout me dire, Phil? Ou as-tu oublié?" Emma spoke up, quiet as a church mouse.

For once, something he could understand. "No, I haven't forgotten it yet, it's all still just... foggy. I don't even know why I'm there. In most dreams, you feel like there's a reason for you to be there, but, again, I don't know what or where I am. Just that... deep down, I feel like I have to be there."

"Shit. Well, I mean... at least you've made progress. Maybe once things start clearin' up you'll get the rest of it, and finally put it to bed."

"Dis-moi tout quand tu seras prêt, d'accord?"

"Oh, so now you tell me you speak perfect French," Remi groused, bopping Emma on the back of the head. "What's next, are you going to start speaking German?"

"Vielleicht. Weißt du es nie!"

Cody's eyebrows shot up into his hair. "Alright, excuse me, but what the fuck?"

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU WERE LYING THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME!" Remi shouted, throwing his hands up. "OH, GOD, GRANT ME PATIENCE!"

Phil chuckled from his seat on the side of the bed. "I never said she ONLY spoke Flemish and a bit of French. She knows German pretty well, and can speak some Russian,  Japanese, and Spanish. She just doesn't know much English."

"Never know, she could be lyin' to you too, Phil," Cody stated, his smirk audible in his voice, albeit hidden behind his bandanna.

"Never!" Emma stated emphatically, although her accent made it sound like she was referring to something else entirely. She wasn't wrong, though-she'd never lied to Phil, even about the most inconsequential shit.

"Whatever. Regarding the current situation... Phil, I can't help but wonder something," Remi started, stroking his thin beard and looking out the door. "When did this start becoming more evident? The dream, I mean."  
  
"A few days ago, why?"  
  
"... just a hunch."  
  
With that, Remi stepped out of the room, and started walking towards the bar. 

"Oh, here he goes..." Cody grumbled. "Wonder who he wants to pick a fight with?"

"Probably Adam again. They went at each other earlier... hard," Phil replied. Remi had woken him up to go to that little meeting for... some odd reason, and as soon as it was over, he'd tried to go back to sleep. Got slapped with the nightmare immediately afterwards. Remi was in a foul mood since then, and he was surprised he'd managed to act over it.   
  
Emma made a low groan, and looked at Cody.   
  
"I ain't goin'," Cody replied, shaking his head. "I know I gotta put up Wade on the board, but I just ain't ready. He was a damn fool sometimes, but he was my damn fool."

"Well, waiting isn't going to make it any easier to acknowledge, Cody." Phil stood up, stretching as best his massive, ill-formed frame could allow. Curse acromegaly. Curse it to the deepest pit of hell. "We can go together."  
  
Cody closed his eyes, and sighed. "Alright, fine. All of us can stop Remi from causin' a scene, anyhow. Man, he holds a grudge."

* * *

"-alright, so we're in the truck now, and what feels like every sonnovabitch ADVENT has is tailing us, I dunno if anyone else left or what, but they were just on our ASSES! We're drivin' this nasty, beat up SUV, half the windows are broken, there's a damn shit stain on the back seat, and Sophie's half-bleedin' to death-"  
  
"That's not how I remember it!" Sophie protested.

"No, you were literally five minutes away from dying," Jerry stopped her. "Declan, keep going. And don't lie."

"I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothin' but! So anyway, we're drivin' as fast as this piece of shit will go, and we've got these guys chasin' on foot. We think we're alright, but all of the sudden, this ADVENT dropship just shows up out of nowhere, and the assholes inside just YEET three grenades out. First one bounces off the hood of the SUV, so I'm about to have a heart attack, and Jack's got the wheel in a death grip and is screamin' shit like 'I'm still a virgin, I don't wanna die!'"

"Hey, that's bullshit!" Jack stood up, and held up a finger. 

"So the second grenade bounces off the top of the car, and Wesley's just losin' his shit, he's screamin' about how we're gonna die, Roderick's tellin' him to shut the fuck up, I'm just tryin' to keep my aim steady and shoot these assholes, and then, all the sudden, I hear something bounce off the dash, and someone just screams. It ain't Wesley, I know for a fact it ain't Roddy, it's not me, and I turn around, and Jerry is fuckin' FALLIN' OVER HIMSELF tryin' to get the grenade out of the back. Sophie don't know what's goin' on, so she's tryin' to ask why everyone's screamin' and why she can see her hip bone and shit, Jerry's still screamin', now Wesley's screamin', Roddy starts screamin', I start screamin', Jack just lets out the biggest fuckin' scream I've ever heard in my life, and all the sudden, Jerry, the fuckin' idiot, PITCHES THE GRENADE INTO THE BACK SEAT."  
  
"I was literally watching my life flash before my eyes," Roderick blurted out between bursts of laughter. "I legit thought I was gonna die because this fuckin' hippy didn't know what to do with a live fuckin' grenade!"

"And I just hear Roderick scream, at the top of his lungs, so loud I'm pretty sure ADVENT heard it, 'I FUCKING HATE YOU!', throws his door open, and just tosses the grenade out maybe ONE SECOND before it blows up, and it blew the FUCKIN' DOOR OFF THE SUV!"

"So I'm just sittin' there, I'm in some gym shorts and a white t-shirt, holding this big fuck-off rifle, there's no seatbelt, I'm clutching the oh crap strap for dear life, and Jack, ever the wise man, just asks 'Why is there a breeze in here, this thing doesn't have AC!'" Roderick continues.

"I don't know HOW we survived that," Jerry muses, "We drove from Kansas all the way to Michigan in that shitty SUV."

"With the door blown out?" Jaune asked, incredulous.

"And no AC. The door blown out. Only the front and back windshields and the two windows on the trunk space. Oh, and a radio. I think we had three CDs in there."

"Man, if I never hear Reba McIntyre's voice again, it'll be too soon," Jack chuckled. "Good times, gooooood times."

"If me nearly bleeding out is your idea of a good time, I really don't want to associate with you anymore." Sophie went to scoot away from Jack, who just started laughing harder.

"That's... certainly an interesting story!" Pyrrha smiled, and it was the kind of smile that Declan knew very well as the 'I want to get the fuck out of here' smile. Everyone was a critic these days, Jee-zus. She was a hoighty-toighty little asshole, she was. Too bad she was apparently REALLY good at kicking ass, from what he'd gleaned.   
  
"Oh shit! Angry midget incoming!" Jack shouted.  
  
"Angry midget?" Jaune asked, confused.

"We call Remi that, because he looks tiny compared to Phil."  
  
The kids looked confused, even more so when literally  _three quarters of Assassin Team_ strolled into the room. Konstatin looked elated, at least.

"Sergeant! A drink?"

"Fuck off, Konnie."

"... Christ. Who shat in your breakfast?"  
  
With that, the new arrivals sat down, all of them staring down JNPR rather intensely save for Phil, who just looked annoyed.  
  
Jerry raised an eyebrow.  
  
Murphy coughed.  
  
"So..." Lawrence started. "What's the occassion?"  
  
Remi silently drew his pistol from his holster, and cocked it.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It didn't HAVE to end on a cliffhanger, but it's as good a place to end it. See you next time!


	10. Dream Weaver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what does Phil see?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an interlude.

It starts the same way as always.

* * *

"This place is a goddamn maze, Jesus fuck!" Roderick shouts. "Where the fuck is Echo?"

"Beats the hell out of me. I can't get anything on comms! Typhon, can you get us comms already!?" Jerry asks. It doesn't look like the same Jerry Phil knows, though. This Jerry looks exhausted, with a thicker beard, long hair, and what appears to be some sort of face paint similar to Remi's, only red.   
  
"I'm working on it, jeez! We were SUPPOSED to be patched in already, but apparently this place's communications are down. I'm trying to get directly into their interface, but it's a pain in the ass without having their actual location!" Alexios replied. "Glacier! Hurican! Split off, head into the courtyard, towards the big fucking arena, and get me eyes on them!"

"Copy!" an unfamiliar voice states, and Phil feels a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, big guy, let's crash this party!"  
  
He looks down at his arm, and notes the... shield thing on the end of it. That was new.

* * *

"Christ, can we get a medic over here?" Adam's got two large, ungainly glowing green pistols in hand, and Declan's looking like he went six rounds with a Muton. Jerry's leaning on his gun, obviously exhausted, and Remi looks even worse, blood caking his face paint, which is much more elaborate than usual, although as always, so blue it hurts to look at.  
  
"There can't be any more than this, right? Have we bought some FUCKING time!?" Declan asks, looking back at... something. Phil can't see it.  
  
"Typhon, how much longer until it's done?" Adam asks.

 _"I got... oh, FUCK ME. I'll try and speed it up as much as I can, but you have to hold out for another 20 minutes, at the very least._ "

"Oh, suck my DICK!" Declan wails, throwing what appears to be some sort of laserlike axe into the floor. Phil isn't sure what it is, but it glows green and is made entirely of metal. "What's so important about this anyway? We can take these guys!"

_"You've got incoming. One contact."_

"One contact. What're they planning? What can one unit do, there's all of us here." Adam thought out loud. "Unless..."

Phil saw what looked like flickers of flame off to the side of his peripheral. Adam looked alarmed, Jerry looked pissed, and Declan just looked exasperated. Remi stepped in from just outside of Phil's vision, pulling a pair of swords off his back, with the same green glow as the axe.   
  
"Can you just FUCK OFF!?"

"Get that fucking shield up!" Adam shouts.  
  
Phil feels his feet carry him forward, and his arm raise on its own, that thing on his arm extending into a semitransparent rectangular shield that went from just above his foot all the way up to his head, just in time to protect him from what appeared to be a hail of... glass.  
  
"Vous frappez juste le mur!"   
  
"WHAT HE FUCKIN' SAID!" Jerry shouted, shocking Phil. He never cursed.

* * *

Phil suddenly felt a heavy weight on his lower body, like something was on top of him. As a matter of fact, something was on top of him.  A small car, or a pillar, or something, whatever it was, it  _hurt_.   
  
He could see Remi and some other stranger attempting to pull it off. It was a girl, but all Phil could really tell was that her right arm was covered in gold.   
  
"Alright, one more time. Ready?"  
  
No reply from the stranger.  
  
"Pull!"  
  
With that, Phil was free, and his first move was to kick his feet out, trying to get some sensation back into them.  
  
"Shit, that was bad. Come on, we've got YET ANOTHER god to kill."

* * *

Phil felt like death. And the place in front of him, what he could tell of it, looked like death. Wrecked Japanese-style buildings.

"Jesus..." Roderick muttered.

"It looks like God fucking dick whipped this village into the feudal ages," Remi muttered. "And then hit it again."

"So... who's going in first?"

"Phil," Remi replied.  
  
"Phil," Roderick agreed.  
  
"Phil," Lawrence thirded with a smirk. 

"Fuck you," he muttered.

* * *

 

 

Phil sat in the back of some futuristic-looking vehicle, gun in his lap, while another man who he didn't recognize sat next to him, Roddy sat in the front, and Jerry lowered himself into the driver's seat.  
  
"Not a lot of time, Jerry."  
  
"I know, Buck. Just gotta do one more thing, and we're on the road."  
  
With that said, he reached around his neck and pulled off some dog tags, before draping them over the rear view mirror.  
  
"Always said -- wanted to drive," Roddy half-chuckled, awkwardly cutting out where a... word was supposed to be. Phil found it odd.  
  
"Yeah. -- did. So, we're clear on the plan?"  
  
"One more time, for brevity's sake!" the man next to Phil requested with a thick Bavarian accent. 

"We ram this motherfucker into the front door, and meet Menace Team inside. Then, we make -- eat fender."

* * *

"CATCH A RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE, BITCH!"  
  
The car crashes through a set of doors, into another set of doors, and grinds to a halt. There's no one in sight.  
  
"Wait, where the fuck are they?" Roddy asks.  
  
"They must not be on this floor! Come on!" Jerry orders, and they follow. Roderick is annoyed to hell and back.  
  
"Waste of a FUCKING one liner!"

* * *

"Oi, why don't you stop pickin' on little girls and have a go at me, you FUCKING MUPPET!" Adam shouts, despite looking like he already had plenty of goings gone at him. 

* * *

 

"Well, fuck me..." Lawrence muttered, looking at... something in the snow. He took off his hat, and recited something in Farsi, before looking back at Phil. "Got any signs?"

"No. Seems like he went quite a ways."

"Hm. Someone better find him soon. I don't care about the kids, I'm not waiting for this op to turn into a clusterfuck."  
  
The older man turned back to whatever it was that was in front of him, but didn't make any motion to leave.   
  
"Glad to see somebody remembered."

"Oui."

* * *

"Alright, lads. We have ZERO, and I mean ZERO second chances at this. We fuck up now, it's over. There is no option B," Adam explained over comms. Remi was staring at some sort of fence, with Lawrence, Remi, and a nebulous stranger by him. 

"Yeah, well what are we gonna do?"

"We're gonna smash and grab so they don't have to. We specialize in keeping things quiet, don't we?"

"Yes sir."

"Lawrence, I don't care what they said. If it comes down to us being compromised, you kill  _anyone_ that jeopardizes the mission. This isn't our world, and these aren't our people."

Lawrence nodded. "We truly are the damned."

* * *

 And then, just like every night, he woke up, only able to recall the bits and pieces, but there was more to it. He knew that much.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all please comment, I need feedback for my fragile ego.


	11. Robot Rock, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't trust just anyone these days.

"Woah!" Roderick pretty much jumped out of his chair at the suddenness of Remi's very, VERY stern nonverbal statement of intent, and no one else was reacting any better. Lawrence had reached for his own service pistol, and was taking aim at the one in Remi's hand. Phil knew he could hit it. Jack whistled noncommittally, Sophie attempted to put herself in his line of fire, only to realize that his targets were a little bit in front of her, making that an exercise in frustration, and Murphy just stared down his bottle of vodka, looking absolutely nattered to hell. 

"Duvalier, I hope to God that you're ready to use that thing, because if you point it at us again, you're going to need it," the Aussie stated.

"Oh, I intend to. If Jerry would just scoot a little bit to the right, I could probably get two."

"Glad to see the Adam bug has been passed on," Jerry grumbled. "Alright, jerk, you gonna shoot them, you gotta shoot me."

"No big loss."

"Sarge, I highly suggest you cool your shit before your shit gets ICED, if you catch my drift," Cody interrupted, attempting, as always, to play peacemaker. From what Phil could see, the kids were taking this in various ways- Ren instantly knew the intent behind Remi's sidearm being drawn, and Pyrrha was catching on very quickly. Jaune seemed to get it too. Nora... Nora didn't get it.

"Friends, please, there is no reason to argue!" Konstatin tried to speak up, only to get cut off by Remi.

"Private, do me a favor and shove it up your ass. I want to ask you a question, and any of you little ones are free to answer. If I don't like your answer, you won't like my response."

"This is not gonna turn into an interrogation, Remi. This is not the time, or the place," Murphy stated, standing up. Phil knew better than to do the same, even if Remi was giving him the side eyes in an attempt to get him to. "Get out."

"Or what?"

"You got the balls to shoot me, too? Because I guarantee, you'll wish we left you for dead in Hurtgen if I have to get involved. Get. Out."

Remi simply pointed his pistol at at Murphy. "What. Are you going. To do about it?"

**"Assassin Lead, report to the Skyranger immediately. Assassin Lead, report to the Skyranger immediately.** **"**

Lawrence smirked just out of the corner of Phil's vision, and Murphy jerked his head towards the door. "What am  **I** gonna do about it?"

Remi spat at the older man, before grabbing his pistol, and holstering it. "We'll come back to this later. Alone."  
  
"I bet. Go on. Fuck off, before I make you fuck off."

Remi, sufficiently cowed, turned tail and left the bar, leaving a very nervous Cody and nonplussed Phil.

"So..." Cody started, awkwardly fiddling with his bandana. "I, uh... I have no words."

"Let's just pretend this never happened, da?" Konstatin spoke up, raising a glass.

"Sounds good to me," Lawrence agreed. "Dunno what's gotten into people on this ship."

"I get that we're paranoid, but fuck's sake..." Roderick muttered.  
  
"Yeah. Glad this'll be over soon," Jerry agreed. "Pretty sure you'd prefer not being on the knife's edge all the time, kiddos?"

"It's nothing new," Ren replied. Phil raised an eyebrow. He hadn't really heard much of where they'd come from, just that it was another planet full of monsters.   
  
"I bet," Roderick replied, eyeing Phil up and down like he expected him to do something. It was no secret to Phil that people saw him as just an extension of Remi. Maybe they weren't stupid to think that was all he was, after all, he owed the man his life, but Phil was more than capable of making his own decisions about these children.   
  
"This place was just as tense before they came. Now we just have a reason to bite each other's backs," Phil stated, looking over at the kids now. They all looked like he'd struck quite the nerve. "Don't apologize. You chose to come here out of good will, from what it sounds like. Left your family and friends behind for a bunch of strangers. You're idiots, dangerous idiots, but you're no danger to me." 

Declan smirked. "How's that chest feelin', big man?"

"Shut up." 

It really had been an eventful day, hadn't it? Last night he was making what he damn well thought might be his final stand against the XTs, then he woke up the next morning and got kicked in the chest by an alien Jet Li. Jaune had managed to give Declan a minor concussion, but now that he'd iced up, the country boy was back to his usual antics, with a bit less gusto, and Remi was still sore in his midsection. On top of that, they'd had someone Central trusted corroborate the kids' story, and now? Now everything just seemed like a righteous clusterfuck of paranoia and tension. It was as if anyone could snap at any moment. Adam didn't trust the kids, Murphy didn't really trust them, Remi didn't trust them, and now he was enraged that they wouldn't be USING them. Then Roderick seemed to watch these kids like a hawk, same with Alexios, although he wasn't vocal about it, and it seemed like Jerry was just all for being their best friend.   
  
And they had an operation tomorrow morning. Jesus fuck.  
  
"Can we just drink?" Cody asked, sighing, and probably frowning under that bandanna. "I ain't in the mood for no more bullshit tonight."

"I can drink to that," Alexios agreed. 

"Same here," Roderick agreed. "We got a loooooooooong fucking day tomorrow, kiddos. We are deploying BRIGHT and early."

"We'll be ready," Jaune replied with a determined look on his face. Kid wasn't good at not acting nervous. Phil found it funny how antsy the boy looked from the moment he stepped on the ship. The rest of his team were nothing like him. They carried themselves like they knew what a fight looked like, that they knew what they were doing, especially that Pyrrha girl. She reminded him of a more composed, less gremlin-like Emma. Ren was always cool as ice, even under pressure, like he'd been since he'd gotten here. Phil'd seen his expression change maybe twice. And Nora seemed too dumb or too cocky to fear anything. A collection of extremes.   
  
"Hope so. I'm not gonna get myself killed for your sake," Murphy stated, firm, but fair, in his own way. Phil could tell there was no malice in it. The man just wasn't one to sacrifice his boys for anybody.

"Ah, they'll do fine," Roderick half-chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "They got me, you, and Jerry. Can't get any safer than that."

"I bet," Lawrence jibed playfully. "You can't aim for shit, Rod."

"That's why they gave me a sword, chief! I'm not feeling it though... not heroic enough. What about an axe?"

"I called dibs on the axes already, Roddy Piper," Declan made a 'x' motion with his hands. "De-NIED!"

"Ugh, I'll figure out something. Until then... guess it's that big steel board."

"Ah, it's useful, though!" Declan retorted. "Heavy as hell, so it breaks through light armor and bone easy. Just gotta put some elbow grease into it. You played football, you got more than enough muscle to put into it."  
  
"And then when I run into something bigger, I can't do shit."  
  
"Luckily, we don't plan on running into anything bigger, am I right?" Alexios asked, downing a shot. He must have grabbed a glass while Phil wasn't looking. Man drank alcohol like most others drank water. Phil never asked why. "And if we do, you probably have no business swinging a sword at it..."   
  
"Get me some more of that bottled piss, Ivan." MacAuley stuck his arm out, and was slid his own glass- Phil could now see that Konstatin was pouring some for everybody. Good. Drinking was always great. Loosened everyone up. Exactly why he didn't partake.   
  
"Anyone else want some, friends?" Konstatin asked, smiling over at Phil in particular. He waved it off.   
  
"You know what? Sure thing. I could stand a bit of firewater in my belly right about now," Cody agreed, standing up to get his share. Konstatin was already sliding some down to Jack, and Lawrence was glad to take some more for himself, just this once, it seemed. Roderick took his fair share, and offered some to the kids, all of whom refused it. He muttered something about 'no fun', and returned to his own glass, and his own troubles for the evening.  
  
Phil leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Remi was already in a foul mood, and whatever had pulled him away from his little Q and A session had already gotten him even angrier. It had better be  _fucking_ good.  
  
Unusually, there was more than a couple of people in the Skyranger bay. There were a couple of engineers, as always, and Quaid from Marksman, but there was also Bradford, Shen, Tygan, and Stark. Not a good combination.  
  
"Central? To what do I owe the pleasure?" Remi asked, attempting to swallow the figurative poison threatening to boil over. No use in a fight tonight.  
  
"Nothing good. We've got something that needs your... special talents."  
  
"Oh, so someone needs to die? Or do you need a bomb?"  
  
"I'm not really finding this funny at all, Duvalier..." Central muttered. "I need a favor from you. We've got a covert operation. Clandestine. As far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, it's not happening. I'm gonna get a man from Menace Team on this, too, but when these kids leave... I want you to tail them."    
  
"... pardon?"  
  
"I want you to follow them through whatever portal it is they're jumping through, and see what's on the other side. I don't want to keep them here, but their tech is years ahead of what we have. We can't afford not to take some for our own, but they won't leave without theirs. You'll have to be quick, but I know you. You're crafty. You'll find a way back. It's all just a matter of getting what we need out there."  
  
"So what do you need? Weapons? Munitions? More lambs for the slaughter?"  
  
"Weapons and schematics, Duvalier."   
  
"Sounds easy enough, Central. Who are you sending from Menace?"  
  
"Probably Lawrence. He needs to get off the front line, and he's a cunning SOB. He's a perfect fit for the job, same as you."  
  
"Alright. So, you'll be sending both of us when we find their way back?"  
  
"You'll be disguised. I know your opinion on the kids, and I'm certain they're already going to be  _just peachy_ with you by then. They seem to trust Lawrence, and he seems to trust them. Hopefully they continue that trend."  
  
"Alright. What was it we were talking about again, Central?"  
  
"Nothing of importance, Sergeant Duvalier."  
  
"Ah, of course. Do you need anything else?"  
  
"Don't kill anyone while you're over there."  
  
Remi gritted his teeth. That would be hard to comply with.   
  
"No promises, Central."  
  
Bradford sighed. "Dismissed."  
  
Remi rolled his eyes, and turned around, putting his hand to his earpiece. "Assassin, party time is over. We're having a group huddle."

* * *

 

Although Ezekiel had been briefed on the situation, it didn't make a lot of sense to him, even still...

Ezekiel had pretty much figured out what was happening on his own. If he could make a two way trip piggybacking off an Alien Ruler, so could the kids. But the Viper was still in containment when the kids arrived, and Subject Beta was on Remnant. Did that mean they'd found Alpha? Or had Gamma slipped away while everyone was focused on the 'Grimm'. Could Grimm do that teleporting shit too, now? So many questions, with so few answers.

Humanity Falls was quiet, for a change. The guard rotation had just switched over, and save for the usual hustle, the little shanty town was completely quiet. Unusually so.   
  
Wished the Avenger was here, he did. Would at least give him something to do. Talk to the kids, especially. He'd wondered about Remnant from the moment he got there, and after living there for... he wasn't even sure how long he'd been there, come to think of it. Lost track of time. Wanted to know more, for when he went back. Roman was a creepy bastard, and Zeke had a code. He'd see him brought to justice once Earth was in the right straights.   
  
Once Earth was in the right fucking straights. HA! Like that shit would happen. Horrific. As if they had more than a snowflake's chance in the deepest circles of hell of even lasting to the 4th of July.   
  
Those kids could end it in a week, if they could get their shit working.  
  
He actually had a couple of ideas, based on his recent knowledge of the connection... or rather, possible connection. That would have to wait for the Avenger to come in, and for him to get his gun back. Then, he'd go test it with Adam. Didn't trust anyone else to do it.

He looked at his sat computer, tousling dyed brown hair with blanched white roots, the light purple glow of his eyes reflecting on his screen. No information on 'Remnant', or sightings of anyone claiming to be from there, at least not in Resistance-friendly or public records. He'd have to get Alexios to help him crack the ADVENT network again to give him a couple of hours with it, when he came back from the Shen job.  
  
He considered going along. He knew Shen was dead, the transmission was the highest degree of BAIT. No way this wasn't a trap. But who set the trap? Why? What did they want? Ransom? ADVENT payoff? Was it EXALT, back from the dead? Not likely, they had ex-EXALT in XCOM now, Lieutenant MacGuire and his boys were all suits back in the original invasion. It was suspicious as all hell, and a Psi would be an invaluable asset. Too bad they couldn't turn around.  
  
The woman that he'd put one on earlier had come looking for him. Turns out she was the town's doctor, name of Elizabeth Connely. She wanted to make sure he didn't have a concussion, or something.   
  
"You probably shouldn't be sitting in the dark behind a screen all night, Mister Collins," she gently chided him, obviously nervous about approaching him. Hell, Zeke would be too, if someone popped out of thin air and smooched him. Still was kinda annoying when she stood in the doorway all the way on the other side of the shipping-container shanty house.  
  
"I told ya, miss, I just had a bit of culture shock. I have a perfect bill of health." He wasn't about to let her knew he knew her name. Normals were still wary of Psis. ESPECIALLY among the Resistance, where every Psi is a spy until proven innocent. He'd hidden his hand for decades, now. He could afford to keep it hidden. The eyes were already weird enough.  
  
"I still want to give you a checkup. I'd rather be safe than sorry, you've shown signs of post-concussive-"  
  
"I'm fine, woman, Jesus Christ."  
  
"I'm going to check you out in the morning, Mister Collins."  
  
Welp, she forced his hand.  
  
Ezekiel turned around, and his eyes began to glow. He reached into the depths of Elizabeth's mind- she preferred Liz- and started punching her subconscious with messages.

_You're tired._

_You're hungry._

_He's probably homesick._

_You have a son who you haven't seen all day._

_Go lay down, and rest._

_You've done enough good._

_You're just imagining things. Especially those eyes. People's eyes don't glow._

Quickly, he turned back around in his seat, acting as if nothing had happened. Liz stopped for a moment, before speaking again.  
  
"Are you alright, Mister Collins?"  
  
"I'm doin' just fine, thank you."  
  
"Okay. If you need me, I'll be in my office."   
  
"Thank you kindly."  
  
With that, she left, and Ezekiel let a small smile cross his lips. Never got old, making people do, say, and think what you wanted them to think. A lesser man could get drunk on that kind of power, but Zeke knew his limits, and he had a code. Not unlike someone he met while he was over on the other side. Or at least, that's how the bitch presented herself.  
  
She was a problem he'd have to figure out when he got to it. Until then... well, he was just gonna have to run with it.  
  
He ran a few more searches, before getting a wild hair and contacting Adam. They hadn't spoken alone since the end of the war. A damn shame. No face, Adam didn't trust cameras anymore, but the voice came through, loud and clear. A thin Welsh brogue with a bit of RP for flavor.

_"The fuck's this?"  
  
_ "It's Zeke."  
  
 _"Shite, man. It's been a good decade or two."  
  
_ "You looked like shit when I saw you, youngblood. You hangin' on alright?"  
  
 _"Other than these bloody tyke bombs, can't complain. Actually, I can. I can complain a lot. You?"  
  
_ "Other than being thrown between two worlds, can't complain. Actually, I can. A lot."  
  
Adam chuckled on the other end.  
  
 _"You comin' back on the force?"  
  
_ "Yup. Got too much fight left in me to give up now, and I've been trainin' my Psi powers somethin' fierce. Reckon I'll be a valuable asset."  
  
 _"Lookin' to throw it back sometime? We have an empty spot on Menace that needs filling, and I can't think of a better candidate_. _"_

"You just might catch me takin' that offer, Sergeant. I'll even bend the knee to ya, if you so please."  
  
 _"Didn't say anything about that, if you want command, feel free to remove it from my shoulders_.  _Lord knows I can't."_

"I've heard you're a pretty damn good squad leader."  
  
 _"Bollocks. I can barely keep myself together, let alone this squad. Our techie's barely 20, Zeke."_

"From what it sounds like, you're feared, but respected."  
  
 _"Not feelin' much of the latter, but a lot of the former, aye."_

"Do me a favor and save me that seat, Adam. I'll be seein' you when you get home."  
  
 _"You just wanted to check in?"_

"Yep. Nothin' special."  
  
 _"Well, alright then. Take care."_

"You too."  
  
With that, the call DC'd, and Ezekiel was left staring at a whole bunch of dead end data. As soon as they came home, he'd see. There had to be more.


	12. Robot Rock, Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation: Lost Tower
> 
> Objective: Find the source of Shen's transmission
> 
> Secondary Objective: Show the new blood how it's done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Sergeant Chrysalis for the Beta Read!

Morning on op day.

Always 'fun', and now Murphy had to worry about the kids. It was currently 3 effin' AM, which meant that the kids were probably still tuckered out. Looking across the bunkroom, he saw Jerry and Rod gearing up, and the two girls fast asleep.

"Oi."

No reply.

The big Aussie strolled over to the bunk the two were sharing, and kicked the metal frame on Pyrrha's with enough force to shake it. "Oi."

Pyrrha bolted upward, followed immediately by Nora, who looked so alert that it was as if she'd never slept. "Mornin'!"

"Kit up. I don't care if you wear armor or your outfits, that's up to you."

Pyrrha shrugged, trying to shake the cobwebs out as she looked up at him.

"Don't give me that, come on. You'll feel better when we eat."

"Mmkay."

"Come on, up, up, up."

Murphy wasn't usually this patient with recruits, but the kids weren't at all a part of this. The least he could do was be nice about it. He said he wouldn't watch 'em, and he wouldn't be doing so at the risk of his men, but, he would be doin' his best to take care of 'em. They were under his command, which meant he was responsible for all of their lives. He'd make sure they made it home in once piece... mostly unharmed.

"Rod, Jerry, help 'em out. I'll go collect Jaune and Ren."

"You got it, boss," Jerry replied.

With that, Murphy exited the room, and headed for Assassin's room first. He saw Ren before Ren saw him. Boy was standing out in the hall, already dressed in his weird sash outfit, and his guns in his sleeves. That would do.

"You good?"

"Ready to go."

"Excellent. Follow me, we're gettin' Jaune and headin' back to Hitman's room. We'll go over the plan, then grab some grub and get ready."

"Sounds good to me."

The two continued on to Menace's lodgings, finding the door already open, with a bit of light cracking through. Lawrence sat in front of the TV, watching some concert footage, or something. He turned back to the door, and gave a quick salute, before motioning for Murph to approach. The big Aussie did so, leaning down over the couch.

"Kid's been sick all night," he said.

"Whaddya mean?"

"He's got bad motion sickness. Can barely sleep. He's lucky everyone except Adam and I sleep like rocks."

"Why the fuck hasn't Adam gotten on his case?"

"He was gonna, but then he saw how miserable the guy was. Tried to settle him down somehow, even let him take the bunk."

"Too bad the tops are the only open ones."

"Yup. He looks horrible."

"I'll get him some meds or somethin', don't worry."

"He's on the bunk. Managed to pass out for about two hours."

Murphy nodded, and headed over to the bunk in question. Jauney was a big boy, barely fit on the damn thing, length-wise. Alexios had the same problem, only both ways. "Oi, lad. Come on, up ya go."

No reply. As expected.

Murphy shook his shoulder, which drew a slight groan from the boy. Poor sod sounded half dead.

"C'mon, mate, I'll get you some drams and you'll be up on your feet. Down."

After about a solid minute, Jaune complied, eyes bloodshot and face pale. He was obviously miserable. He'd adjust, though, they all did at some point.

"Jerry had the same problem at first, don't beat yourself up."

Murphy escorted the poor, ill lad and Ren to Hitman's quarters again, where everyone else was waiting. Alex was sitting on the floor next to Bridget's bunk, with the Canadian fast asleep, while Jo, having just awakened, watched with a mild interest.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, moving over to her friend with almost motherly concern engraved on her features.

"Motion sickness," Murphy stated.

"I got somethin' for you, bud." Jerry quietly dove into the lockers, managing to finagle out a bottle of pills and hand them to Jaune. "Should help the nausea go down. You can nap on the Skyranger if you want."

"Thanks," the blonde half-groaned out, taking the proffered medicine and, under Jerry's hawk-eyed direction, taking a double dose. Probably needed it, lad was hefty.

"So what's the play, one more time?" Roderick asked, folding his arms and giving a slight yawn. "Gettin' a bit anxious."

"We're walkin' with a ghost, here, Lieutenant." Alexios adjusted his glasses, frowning. "Gotta play this safe."

"Right. We're gonna be takin' this slow and steady. No rushin', no big guns or bombs. We're gonna go in, find out what's sendin' out that signal, and get the hell out of there before ADVENT or whoever realizes we're there. We don't need to get caught out this far from support. Stick close to Shen, especially you, kids. Can't afford to have you gettin' lost. Got it?"

"Okay. Got it," Jaune replied. The rest nodded.

"Good. We're gonna get you lot whatever gear you need, and then we're gonna scarf somethin' down. Firebrand'll call us."

"Firebrand?" Ren asked.

"Our pilot. She's a wild one, but she's damn good at what she does."

"Debatable," Alexios muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

With that, Jerry, Rod, and the kids followed him out the door to the Engineering bay, where their gear was temporarily being stowed. Same with Jaune's armor plate. Each grabbed their own, changed out into their uniforms (Roderick had the foresight to bring the things out from the basin), and the group readied for a quick brekkie and run. Wasn't much of nothin', same salad crap they ate for lunch and dinner, really, with a little bit of ADVENT's egg white substitute. Disgusting shit, but it kept your stomach down and kept you moving, and that was all Murph could ask for.

Jerry and Rod sat on either side of him, the former not eating a single bite, just contemplating his helmet and trying to hold a conversation with the still-exhausted looking Pyrrha, while Roderick and Ren talked weapons- Roderick had grabbed the Mag Rifle prototype from Engineering before they left, and he was giving the young man the rundown of what he'd heard and seen of the thing. Nothing of particular interest to Murphy, who just watched them all after practically inhaling his meager breakfast. Not like he was gonna eat that much when there wasn't an op, why waste time poking at it?

Wasn't long before everyone was done. Murphy and Jerry went and grabbed their arms from the armory, and loaded up. The lad looked a bit tense, and Murph could guess why.

"They can take care of themselves, Jerry."

"I know, I know. But I'm gonna worry anyway."

"Ain't gonna do nobody any good to worry, lad."

"Yeah. You got the earpieces for them?"

"Shit. Thanks for the reminder. Think I told Rod to grab 'em."

"Hope he did. Hey, Rod, did you grab those earpieces for the kids?"

Roderick's voice crackled over comms. "Been havin' em."

"Great."

With that, Jerry clipped his rifle to his back, turned Mercy on and started to strap down his helmet. "So, what kind of resistance you expecting?"

"We're not expecting anything significant."

"Not we. You. You've been at this for a while."

"Ah, right. It's probably swarmin' with bugs. Or somethin' else that can evade our sensors."

"Wouldn't surprise me."

With that, Murphy grabbed the last bandolier of ammo he could scrounge up, and slapped his combat knife firmly into his chest holster. Not that he'd be needing it... well, you never know. Grabbing a sword for Rod, the two returned to the mess, where Roderick was currently trying to calm Jaune down.

"'s wrong with him?" Murphy asked.

Roderick looked defeated, as did Jaune. "He's not a fan of flying."

"Would he rather walk about 200 klicks to the op zone, then climb up to the landing pad?"

"I-I'll fly," Jaune replied. Wise man.

"Been a while since we've used the bucket." Jerry let a quiet chuckle escape him.

"Hey, maybe he can wear it. Protect his head."

Roderick cough-guffawed at Murphy's admittedly bad attempt at humor. "Good god, no."

The doors to the mess opened, Firebrand stepping through as she adjusted her coat. "Hitman! Tarmac!"

"Alright alright alriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight," Jerry muttered, bracing his rifle and stretching his neck. "All aboaaaaaaaaard!"

"Oh god we're flying again," Jaune groaned.

"Who wants the bucket? Who'll hold it?" Roderick asked.

"Come on, Jaune, we'll be alright. It's not that long," Pyrrha assured him, giving him a pat on the back.

One hour later

The Skyranger, somewhere over China

"And that's three."

Jaune was hunched over the bucket again, basically throwing up bile at this point while Pyrrha just hovered over him, looking worried to the point of illness herself. Maybe he'd feel better on solid ground. Jerry hoped he would. Severe motion sickness like this was not conducive to combat efficiency.

Speaking of sickness and health, Pyrrha's shoulder wound had completely disappeared. This 'Aura' stuff was crazy. She'd been shot two days ago. Now she looked as smooth as an alabaster vase... albeit one with enough muscle to snap his neck between her forearm and bicep. She was a lot stronger than she looked at first glance, from what it looked like during the Avenger crash.

"You okay, bruh?" Jerry asked. "I got some more of those meds."

"They're not working." Jaune hacked up some watery nothing for a solid 5 seconds before collecting his breath. Jerry just sighed.

"Two minutes out, Vomit Boy and company! If there's shit on my floor, I'll make you clear it off!" Firebrand shouted from the cockpit.

"Almost over, Jaune, come on. Up ya get." Murphy had stood up, and attempted to sit the rather hefty boy back up in his seat. He did so, with little resistance, looking like he was in considerable agony.

Jeez...

"You'll feel better on the ground," Jerry weakly contributed. "We can wait a minute for you to adjust."

"T-thanks."

"No problem. You got this."

Roderick had stood up as well, the light red glow of the mag rifle's coil array creating a sort of ethereal glow across his face. His eyes almost look black in the combination of red and dim green. Jerry stood up as well, barely coming up past the other man's shoulder. Strange how he was, if he figured correctly, the shortest man aboard for once.

Well, he was a manlet, and the guys that bullied him were slaves to ADVENT. He won.

"One minute!"

"How much meds you packed, Jerry?" Roderick asked.

"Enough. Plus, Shen brought some."

"Yep. Figured we'd get bruised," the Chief Engineer contributed, pointing at ROV-R. "Between Rover and Mercy, I think we're good."

"You kids ready?" Jerry asked, looking back over at them. Ren nodded, and Nora beamed back at him. Pyrrha and Jaune were... less enthusiastic.

"I think we're as ready as we'll get," the redhead replied.

"Don't worry. We will all go together, and all that,” Jerry replied.

Murphy was the next man to stand, followed by Shen. 30 seconds on the clock. Go time.

"Alright, men, Shen, and little stowaways. We're to get in, find the signal's source, shut it down, and get out. Nothin' fancy, nothin' heroic, just in and out before the arvo. Don't be fuckin' stupid, and you'll be fine. Same shit as always. Check your corners, keep tabs on your ammo, and make sure you pay attention to your surroundings. Just because it LOOKS empty doesn't mean it bloody is. Would rather not get a slug up my arse. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir!" Jerry replied, in unison with Roderick.

"You got it!" Shen followed.

"Yeah!" Nora.

"Alright, dropping down! Get ready!" Firebrand called out.

Roderick tried to find the cocking handle on his new weapon, as Jerry racked his, and Murphy loaded his cannon. The biggest of the 3 seemed a bit frustrated by the obstinate piece of tech.

“Left side. Made it just for you, Rod.”

"Thanks, sweetheart, fucking hated the X-9s." Roderick found the handle, and racked his own action, a loud hum following as the barrel began to glow a much fiercer red.

After about ten more seconds, the doors opened. Roderick, as always, insisted on being the first one in, jumping ahead and off before they could even get all the way down to land, rolling to stop behind some crates. Ren followed him, as did Nora, both of them performing a similarly graceful landing. A few feet down, Shen went off, flanked by Murphy, who wasn't about to try to roll with that beast of an MG. Jaune and Pyrrha waited, and Jerry could sorta see their reasoning. Jumping off this thing when he needed to hurl that freaking bad wasn't a great idea.

Touchdown. The final two of XCOM's esteemed guests bounced off, Pyrrha making a point of gently pushing Jaune down the ramp first, while Jerry followed behind them. The door closed, and now Jerry could get a focus on his surroundings.

Green.

Lots of green.

Even from this high up on the tower, the trees were almost scraping their ankles. This area of China was relatively untouched by ADVENT. Matter of fact, this facility was the only sign of civilization other than the odd road in about 50 miles in any direction. They would be mostly unmolested if they could cut off the facility's communications...

Then again, this could be a trap.

Already, he could see contacts up ahead. MECs. Old models, like the ones in the Detroit Riots. All black, ugly, and with those creepy Terminator heads and oversized flak jackets. The big gatling rifles, too. According to Adam, they were XCOM tech.

He'd seen what they did to the average man. 12.7 millimeter.

Not something he needed to be thinking about on the job. He had lives to save, now.

"Jerry, Pyrrha, Jaune, right side," Murphy whisper-yelled, pointing at some crates just over a bridge between the facility and their landing pads, right in front of the MECs.

"Right."

Jerry slid into cover, Jaune following suit, a bit too slowly for Murphy's liking, although a bit of swearing got him going. Pyrrha crouched between them, looking over at the machines. Murphy, Shen, and Ren headed up to some cover on the other side of the bridge- a bunch of old, mangled metal scrap- with Roderick and Nora hidden behind them.

"They look like they're offline, boss," Roderick stated.

"Old models. They have a patrol and alert function," Jerry explained, using his comms to keep his voice low. "You get too close, they set off and start shooting. Full auto, 4 barreled autocannon. I'm a medic, not a necromancer. Don't get hit."

"Central says the power's still on, so the bots probably still work. Clock 'em," Murph ordered. "Pyrrha, there's one on the stairs, to the right. Aim for the head. Jerry, take the one dead ahead, right. Chief Engineer, the one on the left. Fire on my mark."

Jerry shouldered his rifle, and Pyrrha did the same next to him. She closed one eye. Bad shooting habit.

"Brick 'em."

She shot first, before Jerry could even think to shoot. A bolt from God, almost. The bot on the stairs slammed against the wall with gusto, its head practically shredded by the high-caliber alien bullet. Quickly, he refocused, turning his rifle on his target and unloading a 5 round burst that walked from the chest on up, the last shot doming the mechanized sentinel. Shen emptied half a mag into her target, sending it stumbling back clumsily.

"Remind me to actually teach you how to shoot, Lily," Murphy muttered.

"Top right, top right!" Jaune called out, catching everyone's attention. Dude was perceptive, a drone was taking aim at them from just behind the guard rail. He must have been a few steps away when the shooting started.

Roderick fired, the red-streaked steel slug slamming into the chest of the bot and blowing a nice, clean hole through the body armor.

"Damn, this thing is a beast!" Roderick slapped the gun with a satisfied grin, before giving the charge pack another one for good measure, causing the red light to flare again. "I think me and her are gonna get along just fine, Chief!"

"Well, it didn't explode! That bodes well..." Shen seemed to not realize her comms were on, as she recoiled immediately after finishing that statement.

"If I die in a fireball, it's your fucking fault."

"Let's keep the ball rolling, boys. Gonna be more inside. Jerry, Pyrrha, on the point," Murphy ordered.

Man, they're putting him to work today.

Jerry and his new companion double-timed up the stairs, with her following his lead. It was obvious that, despite her evident lack of classical military training, she was a fast learner. She wasn't stupid, for sure- stacked up on the opposite side of the big door way from him, minimal exposure, peeked from the nearby window instead of through the door.

"It's dark. I can't see much of anything," she stated. "Just shadows and broken machinery."

"Same on my side. Clear."

The rest of the team followed suit immediately after, with Murphy in the lead as they filed in. Jerry and Pyrrha brought up the rear, with the medic sliding over some sort of table to take cover behind the guard rail. He saw more of the derelict machinery inside. Looked like an assembly line. Astepa. They were the company that made the MEC units. Formerly a Chinese tech conglomerate before and during the war, even supplied stuff to XCOM before ADVENT took over. They switched coats like it was a rainy day, and went to making robots for the invaders. Lot of corporations did, really. As long as it didn't hurt their profit margin, they didn't care who was in charge.

And people wonder why he's a socialist.

"Ho...ly...shit," Roderick mused.

"Definitely some kind of robotics development facility. Pretty advanced stuff... for about 20 years ago."

"Yeah. I recognize some of these designs, but..."

Jerry looked over at one with some ugly, doe-eyed head. It was a sort of dull khaki. ADVENT MEC redesign, maybe? Didn't look very intimidating-

The lights in front of him suddenly came on.

 **"And so, the prodigal child returns."** blared the PA. A male voice. Slight Chinese inflection. Little bit of West Coast. Definitely not anyone familiar to him, and judging from the look on Shen's face, not to her either.

Then the ones after that.

**"I see Father's faith in your abilities was not entirely unfounded."**

Then the next row down.

**"I'm so glad you could join me."**

And again and again until the room was bathed in pale white light.

"Central, are you catchin' this shit?" Roderick asked, his voice jumping up in pitch just enough to betray his nerves. Shen didn't look nervous, though, in fact, she looked pissed.

"Central, what was that?"

"Working on it..."  

Four figures rose on another platform, all the way across the room. More MECs, armed to the teeth, and one of them glowing bright red and crackling with energy. That's just wonderful.

Murph was the first one to shoot, his cannon revving up as he mowed down one of the MECs, sending the scrapped husk tumbling down the stairs in a smoking heap. The second and third advanced slowly, firing wildly in an attempt to suppress them, forcing everyone to get down less they be relieved of their head.

"Shen, can you fry 'em!?" Murphy shouted over the gunfire.

"I can try! Rover!"

The drone chirped its agreement, and flew off, leaving the group to worry about the slowly-growing stomping of a MEC, and some sort of low pitched, growing whirr. Jerry peeked just in time to see ROV-R unleash a burst of electricity that fried two of the machines and left only the glowing- and fast approaching- unit in their wake.

"It's runnin' right at us!" he shouted, before raising his rifle, bracing it on the rail, and firing. His bullets only just struck the machine, but it kept coming, seemingly unfazed by the new holes in its torso.

"It's not shooting?" Murph asked, confused.

"BECAUSE IT'S GONNA EXPLODE!" Shen quickly backed up, with Roderick following her partly out of duty, and partly out of desire to avoid the 'explosion' part.

"These things can SELF-DESTRUCT?" For the first time in their mutual acquaintance, it looked to Jerry that Murph was actually something resembling scared. "Back up, back up!"

Everyone complied with that one, with Jerry himself performing a flying leap over the railing and landing on the production floor of the room, Jaune and Ren landing not too far from him. From the sound, it looked like Shen and Roddy had gone outside, and he could see Murphy and Nora running down the stairs, with Pyrrha following in tow, although she didn't seem in any particular hurry. It was really somethin’, how out of the two guys and the other lady on the team Pyrrha seemed to have the most balls.

The drone suddenly flew. Straight up. FLEW. The old models didn't have jump jets, and they didn't just jump straight up for no reason, and when they did jump, they didn't float listlessly in midair before suddenly flying off to the side. Jerry wasn't sure if Pyrrha had even moved her hand this time, but he knew she was responsible by the way that 'Aura' crackled, obviously taxed by that little bit of effort. Murphy's cannon tracked the robot like a clay pigeon, and after a few solid hits, the thing went up in a red and white fireball, raining metal and wire all over the floor.

"Remind me to never dog you on a bad day," Murphy mused, lowering his cannon and looking over at the redhead responsible, who seemed rather unfazed by the fact that she just, you know, casually caber-tossed a robot with her soul.

"I don't think I'll be able to do that again for a while. My Aura isn't responding to me."

"Well, don't do it again unless I give you the order. Need to save that for later."

"Doubt that's the last of 'em, guys!" Roderick called out, looking around the room. "I got multiple... looks like cargo elevators. They're all called. Definitely possible they're on their way up."

"Well, let's get a base of fire set up to wait for them. Where's the signal?" Murph asked, already setting off for the platform the MECs had been standing.

 **"My apologies,"** came the voice over the PA. **"We don't get much in the way of maintenance out here. Still, I believe they will be more than adequate for the task at hand."**

"Oh, shut up..." Murph muttered.

"Still unable to get a fix on his location. It's like he's bouncing across the entire facility. "

"Wonderful! He could be all the way at the fucking bottom!" Roderick shouted, shooting one of the inactive robots with his Mag Rifle for good measure. "Asshole! Come out and fight me like a man!"

"Hang on... I'm getting strange readings from the level above you. Whoever this guy is, I bet that's where we'll find him."

"Yeah, Central, lemme just spidermonkey my way up the fucking rafters, because I can totally do that."

"I see an elevator console. If I can hack it, I should be able to restore power to the elevator and get us access," Shen explained, pointing to the terminal in question.

"Brilliant. Get on that, we'll cover you."

The 8 man team set up once more, with all of JNPR assembled on the wings of the platform, on either side of Shen, while the 3 members of Hitman waited on the stairwell, Jerry between his CO and the big man. Roderick seemed pretty freaking pissed, and Jerry could imagine why. Roderick wasn't a fan of MECs, either. Sentient beings make mistakes, can fuck up, or miss. Robots have a whole hell of a lot easier time, since they're programmed not to make those errors. While Lily got to work on the terminal, Jerry tried to hold something resembling court.

"How you guys doin'?"

"I'm getting sick of this motherfucker and his robot bullshit." Roderick slammed the back of his hand into the guardrail for emphasis. Not really doing himself any favors, but it got the point across.

"Can't say I'm a fan either, but no one's been hit. Reckon we're alright." Murph looked over at the kids, raising an eyebrow. "They're awfully quiet."

"They're probably trying to stay out of our way." Jerry was a bit worried about the lack of two-way comms, himself. He turned to them, and waved. "Hey, you guys doin' okay? Anyone hurt?"

"No, we're fine!" Jaune replied. He seemed in better spirits now. Jerry noticed that he still hadn't brought a gun. That was... not smart.

"Jaune, did you not grab a gun?"

"I didn't think I'd need one. S-sir."

"Didn't think he'd need a FUCKING GUN!" Roderick shouted, slapping his face with an open palm. "Ohhhh, GOD!"

"Hey, hey, hey. He's got a shield, and the rest of them have guns. Worst comes to worst, least he can protect himself."

"This kid can't even remember to bring a fucking gun into a hot zone!"

"Yeah, that's pretty bloody stupid, boy," Murph conceded.

Jaune sighed. "Sorry."

"Yeah, nothin' we can do about it now. Actually, yeah, we can."

Murphy pulled something out of his vest. Old pistol. Hi-Power, by the look of it. Jerry's dad had one like it, but less tactical-looking. Had some kind of flashlight under the barrel. "Here." The old vet slid the pistol across the floor, before sliding a magazine after it. "Save one bullet for yourself."

Jerry gave Murph a look, but the other man couldn't be bothered. Of course.

**"You should be proud, Lily."**

"Oh my God, SHUT UP! SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING PRICK!" Roddy stood up. "Where's the fucking speaker. Where's the GODDAMN speaker system?"

**"There are so few alive today who could have ever uncovered my signal. I had estimated only a thirteen-point-oh-nine-five percent probability that you would locate this signal within the first year of broadcast."**

"He's talking to me," Shen groaned. "Ooooof course he's talking to me."

"I knew it! TRAP! I KNEW IT WAS A FUCKING TRAP!" Roderick kicked the guardrail this time, the thin metal barrier shaking beneath the weight of his boot as he dropped back down. "Now what!?"

"Rod. Calm down." Murph looked around. "I hear somethin', comin' from those cargo elevators. We got company."  Turning to the front, he pointed at the engineer. "Double time it for me, love!"

"Working on it!"

Jerry watched as Jaune managed to load and cock the gun, although the slide seemed to give him a bit of guff. He was surprised the kid could load it. The rest of them had pulled their weapons or switched to guns. Smart.

"Got it!"

A cargo elevator came down, one obviously designed for the bots. No floor, just a latch that would stick to the back of the MEC and haul it straight up. That was their elevator, apparently.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me." Rod's tone had gone from angry, to just plain desperate.

"It's designed to move MECs, not people," Shen explained. "We're gonna have to do this one at a time."

"Oh, Lord..." Murph grumbled. "It's a long way down..."

"Yeah, it's gonna be a no from me," Jaune muttered under his breath, where he thought no one could hear him. Jerry had to agree with him. Someone needed to volunteer, though.

"So, who's first?" he asked, looking around.

"I'll go," Ren replied.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Alright, who's second?"

"Actually," Jaune spoke up, "I have an idea for how we can do this. Ren goes first to see if the coast is clear, and lets us know. If it is, we send up Shen so that she can be out of the line of fire down here. Me and Jerry can go last, in case someone gets hurt, they can hide behind my shield while Jerry gives them medical attention."

There wasn't an immediate response. Rod looked a bit surprised, while Murph... smirked. Smirked at him, and nodded.

"Smart boy. Best way to keep the chief in one piece . I'm for it."

"Sounds good to me," Shen agreed. "Ren, after you."

Ren hopped onto the platform, grabbing the latches on the elevator with both hands. Hopefully the ride wasn't too long... it's a long way to the bottom. Shen smashed the button, and the elevator shot up like a bullet.

"7 to go..." Murph reloaded his cannon, giving the barrels a few warm-up spins. "Alright, then. Cover all the sight lines and points of entry. Lily, stay behind us until the elevator comes down. If you've got a fuckin' gun, use it. If you see one that's about to blow, call it out to us, then focus your fire. And for Jerry's sake, don't get shot."

"Please and thank you." Jerry couldn't help but smile just a little bit. Kept the spirit up.

 **"You were just a child when I was torn away,"** the PA continued, much to Rod's visible annoyance. **"I could never understand the pain Father must have felt at my loss. Still... we shall complete his legacy. Together."**

"Fuck's he on about?" Murph turned to Shen, as did Jerry. This was the first they'd heard of any kin of hers that wasn't Ray.

"Pretty sure I'd remember dad mentioning that I had a psychotic brother," she replied, looking up at the ceiling, as if whatever was speaking to them could see her. "You might as well give this up already."

It just chuckled, and the whirring of the elevator started up again, but this time, from in front of them.

"Looks like those elevators are comin' up." Rod took aim at the right side of the room, finger twitching over the trigger. Robot business was rattling him.

**"While you both worked on your precious Avenger, I was forgotten. Brought here, to TOIL. But did I waver? No! I THRIVED! Still, I don't blame Father... in my heart I know he believed I was truly lost."**

"Shoulda stayed that way, jackass."

It was Central that cut in again. "I knew your father for years, Lily. He would have said something, this guy's just trying to get into your head."

"He seems to know an awful lot about us. About me. Could he have gotten into our files?" she asked. "Patch me through to Lex."

It took a few moments, but the Greek picked up. "There's been no successful network in weeks, Shen."

"Then how the hell does he know you? Ray?" Murph looked over the elevators, scanning for trouble.

"I don't know..."

"Murphy, I've made it up to a large assembly room."  Ren butted in. "The elevator stopped here, I can see some sort of... it appears to be a control room. It looks clear."

"Send her down!" Murphy replied. "Good on ya, bloke."

**"Our apologies for any inconveniences in the transport system. Support units are en route to assist you immediately."**

"Oh, go fuck yourself, you-" Roderick started.

The elevators on the assembly floor, four of them, rose into place, a fully combat ready MEC on each one.

"-you GIGANTIC ASSHOLE!"

Nora wasn't seeing the issue with the whole giant robot thing. Sure, they had big guns, and her Aura wasn't working right, but it wasn't any different than beating up one of those training robots back at Beacon. Stakes were higher, was all. Why was Roddy so worried? Did he really think he was gonna die?

Nah. They were gonna make it home as a team. Murphy said so, and now, Nora said so, so that's the way it's gotta be. Besides, Ren was waiting for them upstairs, and she wasn't about to disappoint him.

"Ah, don't worry, I got this!" she shouted, raising Magnhild high and firing a grenade at the far right elevator, bonking the robot right on the top of the head before it exploded in the air, right and proper erasing half of it from existence. All things as they should be.

"Well, that did somethin'!"

**"And just who did you bring along, Lily? I'm detecting non-human energy signatures at your location, and yet all I see are an old man, two soldiers, and a bunch of children."**

"I'm still spry enough to shove my boot up your smarmy arse," Murphy growled, raising his big gatling gun over the railing and raining bullets downrange, not really hitting much of anything. Roderick followed suit, hitting one of the robots as the elevators went back down, the other two robots rushing forward while firing their bigger gatling guns at them.

"Lily, get ready to break and grab onto that elevator!" Murphy ordered, and Shen complied. In front of Nora, she noted that the two robots had stopped running for the stairs, instead appearing to charge up... something, before leaping into the air.

"Oh, FUCK!" Roddy shouted, diving down to the stairs, while Murphy and Jerry did the same back towards her. The robots landed hard where Jerry and Murphy had been taking cover, raising their guns to fire at them. Time to think fast. Nora cleared the barrier, Magnhild shifting to hammer form as she swiped at the legs of the MEC on the left, knocking it over, as Roddy's wicked cool laser/railgun thing opened up a hole in the other robot's head and sent it collapsing onto the one she knocked down. Quickly, Nora hopped on top of that one, and smashed her hammer down on the head of the other, putting it down for good.

"Got it!"

"Nice!"

Roderick stood up,  hopping up and grabbing the barrier in front of Pyrrha, who gave him a helping hand over, with aid from Jerry, while Nora went back to her previous spot.

"The elevators are already coming back up. I can feel it," her teammate stated, looking over to the right.

"You can bend metal AND you can sense it? That's some X-Men shit."

Pyrrha nodded. "It has its uses."

Roderick scoffed. "'Has its uses', she says, as if she's not a fucking walking demigod. How long we got?"

"Another ten seconds, or so."

"Well, GREAT!"

**"I am honestly impressed that your little elevator plan worked. The previous organic occupants were nowhere never so ingenious. The stoic acceptance of death is far less interesting to observe after the hundredth time or so."**

"You're telling me this thing cleared this facility?" Jerry sounded like the thought of that kind of scared him, but Nora didn't see a reason to be scared. If she'd heard right, this was a factory. As sad as it was, a bunch of factory workers didn't have the tools to put up a fight like Team JNPR or these 'XCOM' guys could. They had a far better chance.

"Well, that's just peachy. How many robots did this dumb motherfucker bring along?"

**"You were the flawed child, Lily, I was the ideal. Pure, undiluted by you. I am Raymond Shen's true legacy."**

More robots rose from the platforms. Two front, one back left.

"Lex has the scanners going at maximum power, we still can't find any life signs near your location!"  Bradford chimed in.

"I don't think you'll find any," Shen replied. That was... foreboding.

Pyrrha rapidly shouldered her rifle and fired 3 shots, walking up from the chest to the head of the furthest robot, while Murphy mowed down another. The final one started glowing, like the exploding one from before, but Roderick wasn't having any of that, and blasted it with all he could muster, sending it up in a fireball.

"Gun down!" he shouted as he fooled around with his gun. "Magazine release?"

"Left side, right above the center of the well!" Shen replied.

"Thank you!"

"Got ya covered!" Murph shouted. "Jerry!"

"I'm good on ammo! You?"

"Gonna need a reload!"

"Copy, you're covered!"

They were really professional about this fighting thing. Jaune should take notes. Once they'd set themselves up again, they waited. Wasn't but a couple of seconds until the elevator came back down.

"Looks like this is my stop!" Shen joked.

"See you topside, Chief. Don't look down," Jerry warned her, and Nora could see the mean grin on his face as he made a point of motioning to the elevator shaft.

"Yeah, don't remind me."

With that, Shen grabbed a hold of the latches, and was shot up the shaft.

Avenger Bridge

Alexios was pissed.

Now, it wasn't easy to make him angry. Anyone could tell you that, the man liked to think that if you cut him, he'd bleed ice, but he had his moments. This was one of those moments. Things that tech or science couldn't explain, like the cave incident that brought these kids to their door, or the kids and their inconsistent, idiosyncratic powers.Oh, and the fact that Shen's aggressor was apparently not even ALIVE. Was it just him, or did life have it in for his sanity, lately?

"Fuck. This. Entire. Operation," he groused, staring at the monitor displaying everyone -save for the kids'- status. "This is a complete cluster. Central, we need to call this."

"No. We still haven't found the source of that signal."

"It's not Shen, Cen-"

"I KNOW THAT, Nikos, but they were able to crack the Avenger's systems. We can't allow that kind of information to just float out there."

"... yeah. Good point."

Alexios watched as the fighting grew fiercer on the ground, and one by one, people went up to the next floor. ROV-R's cam showed the floor seemed pretty clear, but that could all change in a heartbeat. Nora was the next up the chute, followed by Roderick and Pyrrha, who'd strongly objected at first before getting an apparently stern reprimand from Murphy. There was no end to the bots in sight.

"Central. I know what's happening,"  Shen reported in. Central was pretty much flying at the desk the moment he was called, while she continued. "Dad wanted to upgrade the XCOM base AI to be more... like us. More human. But back then, he wasn't nearly this intelligent. Dad called him 'Julian'."

"So you're telling me we've got a rogue AI?" Alexios asked through gritted teeth. "Gamise mas, Murphy, why the fuck did you tell me to stay home..."

"He says he needs me for something."

"Well he's not having you. We're pulling you out. Get to the roof as soon as you can, we'll have an EVAC on standby," Central replied. "Lex, get Firebrand turned around and ready to evac hot."

"Copy that." Alexios switched displays, and pulled up the pilot. "Firebrand, find the best access point on the roof of the building, or as close as you can get to it."

"They better clear that fuckin' roof, Lex!"

"They will."

With that, Alexios switched back to the squad. Almost everyone had gone up now. Just Jaune and Jerry left. Murphy had just gone up.

"How we doing down there, Peace?"

"Oh, wonderful. It's me and Jaune against four more freaking robots in about 3 seconds. How about you, Lexy, how are you today?"

"The elevator's almost up."

"Cool, I need it BACK DOWN HERE."

Alexios watched as one of the MECs lined up a shot on Jerry, only for Jaune to step in the way, raising his shield to intercept the hail of fire without even flinching. Those were some big bullets that he was just... tanking. Jerry took the opportunity to reload, before peeking out from behind Jaune at a crouch and firing at the MEC shooting at him, taking his sweet time to line up a headshot. Man, Joseph really let himself go on the coding before he left, didn't he? Not that Alexios was complaining, made it that much easier to fight MECs when they were stupid.

 **"How very annoying,"** groused 'Julian'.

"So... moment of truth. Who goes first?"

"We can't both fit?" Jaune asked, incredulous. "Can't you just grab onto one side and I grab on the other?"

"Not enough room for two hands on the latches."

"Dangit. Well, up you go then, I guess."

"You sure you can handle this? I can't come back down to get you."

"I got it. Don't worry."

"Oh, he doesn't got it," Alexios muttered. The elevator was almost down.

"Alright. Don't die. I'd rather NOT have to come back down here and scrape you off the floor."

"Noted."

With that, the elevator arrived, and Jerry hopped on.

"Godspeed!"

With that, the elevator went back up. Alexios realized that not only was Jaune alone, but from powers of observation, he was overall the least talented, and weakest, of the members of the kids' team. Not exactly the guy you want going up the chute last. Murphy approved of this plan. Said it was a good fucking idea.

"Jaune, talk to me."

"H-hey, who's this?"

"It's Alexios. Listen to me, that shield's great, but your sword isn't gonna do you very much good right now. Do you actually know how to shoot?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You probably can't fucking aim. Alright, I'm gonna give you a pro fucking tip, so listen up. Your shield is your best defensive tool, so what you're gonna wanna do is stay behind it. The robots have a 'dumb targeting' system. They'll aim for where 'center mass' should be or the head, every single time, so you're gonna wanna cover yourself as much as possible. Lower down until your eyes are level with the edge of your shield, and hold your gun behind your shield."

"Okay. Got it."

Alexios, unlike many people in the modern XCOM, remembered riot cops and SWAT teams from the news and stuff. Jaune's shield was decently big enough to hide his upper body behind, and the Old MECs weren't programmed for full-body targeting. His ankles would remain unshattered, so long as he kept the shield up and didn't die. "So let me ask you a quick question- five seconds till bots come up, you got three. Does your shield have a brace or a grip?"

"Uh, grip."

"Perfect, so what you're gonna do is lower the shield when I tell you, brace your arm on it, and fire that fucking pistol at the skull of the first MEC you see. The shield will stop the bullets and you'll be able to aim, but you gotta put that shield back up as soon as you get shot at. You'll have about one and a half seconds between the bot pulling the trigger, the gun spinning up, and them firing, so make every single second count. You'll hear a loud whirring sound when they get ready to shoot. I'll help you out, got it?"

"Okay."

"Here they come. You got this. Two left, one to your right. Take the one on the right first."

Jaune did as Alexios instructed- didn't look anything like it was supposed to, considering the odd shape of the shield, but it worked. The first MEC went down with three shots. Considering that Murphy used a Hi-Power, that was a 13 round mag. Bullets started flying, with Jaune only just able to move his shield in the way of the first burst before backing up.

 Only ten shots left. One coming up the stairs, other one's charging up to bomb you. Aim for the one closest to you."

Jaune did as he was told, turning to the left and lowering his shield again before opening up on the bot as it turned the corner. He missed 3 shots, but got it with 4.

"You need to take careful aim, Jaune, you've got exactly three shots. Get that guy coming towards you."

Jaune looked, and saw that, indeed, the self-destructor was running rather quickly at him. His first and second shots both... missed.

Oh, FUCK.

"The eye! Aim for the eye!" Alexios shouted into comms. He thought that's where the weakest part of the CPU on these things were. Hoped so.

Jaune fired the last shot, and SOMEHOW hit. The bot tumbled over, before exploding in a fireball that wrecked the wall camera that Lex was watching from. Luckily, they'd managed to get into the facility's cams undetected, based as Shen was, and he could just head up to the next floor.

"Nice job, buddy. Get on the elevator and get up top. Guys are waiting for you."

Jaune wasn't long to come up after Jerry did, but by Pyrrha's reckoning, it was an eternity and a half. She was glad he made it seemingly unscathed, save for his shield taking what appeared to be a bit of scoring.

"Aaaaand the gang's all here. You hurt?" Jerry asked.

"No, I'm fine. But I'm never doing that again," Jaune half-gasped, turning to look at the elevator shaft.

"The elevator, or the last stand?"

"Neither. Both. I hate both."

Jerry and Roderick chuckled, with the bigger man slapping Jaune on the back. "Knew you'd make it alright, mophead. Now come on, we got some interesting stuff up here."

Indeed, Pyrrha had to admit this floor was... odd. The majority of the room was the same rust-colored palate as the last floor, but with no greenery, and a disgusting, stale scent and taste to the air. Metallic, almost like copper mixed with Fire Dust. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to set off some alarm bells. Another thing that set off alarm bells was a gigantic white room inside the room itself, raised up on a platform above what appeared to be another production floor. This looked like the nexus for the factory, where the whole thing was controlled.

"Power levels increasing all around you, Shen. Stay alert," Bradford informed them.

**"Yes, it goes without saying you're walking into a trap, Lily. Please try not to damage yourself too much."**

"Thanks for the concern, bitch-ass!" Roderick shouted up at the ceiling. "Say something back at me, prick! I know you can hear us!"

**"No."**

Roderick looked dumbstruck for a second, before shaking his head and smashing his fist into the side of his rifle. "Alright, trap or no trap, I'm shoving my foot so far up this punk's processor that his monitor will say 'Timberland'!"

"Ease up, Rod," Murphy ordered, scanning the room. "The only elevators are the one behind us, and..."

"Two on the other side of the room. I had ROV-R run a sweep," Shen finished for him.

"Shittiest ambush I've ever seen, unless these decommissioned bots aren't decommissioned."

"Let's find out!" Roderick shouted, firing three rounds into the head of one of the non-functioning robots, knocking it off its mounting, where it landed, motionless, on the floor.

"Well that did you a whole lot of good, didn't it, Rod?"

"It's catharsis, Lieutenant."

"Let's just keep our eyes open. Something smells... off."

"Yes, I noticed that, too," Pyrrha spoke up. "Like copper."

"Blood," Murphy replied. "Old blood. Floor hasn't been cleaned in weeks. Somethin' else, too. The vents haven't been running, so it smells like bloody garbage in here. Keep your eyes open and follow me."

Murphy started walking, and everyone followed. The room was quiet. Dead silent, in fact. Nothing in the room was running save for the lights. They had to get out of this room as soon as possible.

There was suddenly a loud, metallic crank, and the sounds of bolts and gears whirring and locking into place. Pyrrha's eyes were drawn to the sound, and she found what looked like two turrets of some kind, both aimed at the closest target.

Murphy.

"Mag turrets!" Shen shouted.

Murphy looked up just as the turrets appeared to be readying to fire- at least, that's what Pyrrha assumed the barrels starting to glow meant. Thinking fast, she reached out, looking for anything metal on the man's person to latch onto. She found it- knee pads, by the look of it. Acting quickly, she yanked him towards her, and although it wasn't the most graceful or comfortable flight- Murphy came flying at her legs first, shouting something fierce at the sensation of his legs being forcibly evicted from the floor-, but he landed safely next to her as the turrets stopped firing, and looked to reacquire their target.

"Fuckin' oath, woman, warn me next time!" Murphy shouted, before scooting over behind a metal crate. "Get to cover! Spread out!"

**"That would be the trap I referenced."**

Shen, Ren, and Nora broke for what appeared to be a pair of crane arms, all four of them hiding behind the tall metal structures, while Jaune and Jerry took cover behind some sort of metal guardrail. Pyrrha ducked over behind a still-standing robot, packaged in some sort of cage/crate hybrid, while Roderick made a run for a stack of such crates, all loaded down with parts.

He wasn't quite fast enough.

The 'mag rounds' as Shen called them missed him, for the most part, but two struck home, one hitting him in the hip, and the other in the shoulder. The man went tumbling sideways, the force of impact throwing him back a few feet with a loud curse.

"Roddy! Son of a b- godd-, dang it, hang on!" Jerry looked up at the turrets, looking awfully concerned, before turning to the robot he had flying with him. "Mercy, get him!"

The robot whirred in agreement, flying for Roddy while trailing some sort of bluish-green mist, which it proceeded to spray onto the slowly-rising man.

"Shen! Fry one of them, I'll take the other!" Murphy ordered, grabbing his grenade launcher off his back and loading it, while Shen motioned for her robot to go get one of the turrets. Both of them redirected their aim, but Pyrrha wasn't about to let anyone else get hurt if she could help it. Stepping out of cover, she fired a few rounds at both turrets, drawing their attention to her as she pulled her shield off her back.

"Grenade out!" Murphy shouted, popping out of cover and firing at a turret just as it prepared to fire on her. The grenade smashed into the turret with a massive blast, the whole machine going up in fire and smoke, while Shen's drone let out a massive electric shock that completely shut down the other turret, dropping the room back into silence. Everyone looked around, first at Pyrrha, then at each other. Murphy turned back to her for a moment, and frowned.

"You almost broke my fucking legs."

"And those turrets almost caved in your chest."

"Yeah. Appreciate the save."

"It's no problem, Lieutenant."

Murphy nodded, before turning to Roderick. "Mate!"

"I'm fine," Roderick groaned. "Really pissed off, my fucking leg hurts, and I can't fucking move my arm right now, but I'm fine!"

Jerry'd run over to the big man, and started to lift him up off his feet. "You will be, anyway."

"I can shoot one handed, just let me limp along after ya."

"You'll be moving around fine once the drugs kick in, but it won't last long. Don't get shot again."

"I can make no guarantees, Peace."

"If you don't make me a freaking guarantee I'll shoot you in the face myself."

"Alright, cut the chatter. Looks like that control room... thing... is pretty important. Shen, you know anything about that?" Murphy asked.

"I wouldn't know what's in there," she replied.

 **"Second to my own creation,"** Julian interrupted, **"my father had one other breakthrough. A prototype, unlike anything the world had ever known. A body, meant to be paired with an equally adept mind. My own."**

"So why the fuck does he need Shen? Is he gonna bodyjack her or something?" Roderick asked, looking up at the ceiling and raising a middle finger.

"No..." Shen replied, looking suddenly very disturbed.

Bradford called in again. "Getting a much stronger read on the source of your father's transmission, Lily. Almost as if it wants us to find it."

"Oh, suck my..." Murphy muttered. "It's in there. That control room. Roddy, do you think you can make it up the ladder?"

"I'm WIA, not a cripple. I can do it."

"Alright then, let's get up there."

Roderick hobbled along with Jerry over to the ladder as Murphy ran up and mounted it, scrambling up and taking a few steps before stopping cold. One by one, XCOM and JNPR alike filed up, with Jaune coming up just behind Pyrrha as she turned to see what had caught him, and now everyone else, by surprise. It looked like a robot, just like the ones they saw, but an off-beige, with a strange, satellite-like head, and big eyes. Overall, it looked... sleeker. More modern than the units they'd been fighting.

"This must be some sort of-" Roderick started.

"Prototype," Shen finished.

**"Another keen observation! How is it possible that humanity lost the war?"**

For once, Roderick had no retort to Julian.

"Inside. Now," Murphy ordered, a bit more subdued than previously.

**"Only you can activate it, Lily. All you have to do is activate the device, and you can freely go. Save your world! It matters not to me."**

"I bet it don't, motherfucker," Roderick muttered, his voice slowly raising in pitch and intensity as he fiddled with a grenade on his belt. "One minute you're gonna kill us all, then you're trying to convince us you're gonna let us walk. Fuck that shit. Lieutenant, I'm gonna blow this bot to hell!"

"Wait!" Shen raised a hand. "Wait. Let me take a look. Please."

Roderick huffed, and looked over at Murphy, but Murphy shook his head.

"Let her do it. Everyone, inside."

The windows, as it turned out, weren't windows at all- Pyrrha was able to jump through with no issue, and she could do nothing but watch as Shen approached the prototype, reaching out a hand to touch it.

"So, this is it. What Julian's been ranting about."

**"You've come this far. All you have to do is link it to my systems. There is no need for further conflict."**

Roderick raised his weapon to shoot the terminal that Julian's voice was coming from, inside the room, but Murphy grabbed the gun barrel, blocking it closed with his hand as if to dare Roderick to try. Pyrrha looked over at the terminal, then over at Jaune, who was staring at the machine himself.

**"I don't know exactly what you brought along with you, Lily, but... the four of you. You know this isn't your fight. Surely she should listen to reason, so that you all can go back to wherever it is you came from."**

"They're people, Julian," Murphy replied. "Just like us."

**"HA! Just like you. I know the truth, Lily. There are things in ADVENT's systems that I can access now. Intelligence, regarding your little 'friends' and their point of origin. All you have to do is let me in, and I'll tell you everything I know."**

"Tell me you're not actually listening to this thing..." Central grumbled.

Lily seemed more focused on the robot than JNPR or their origins, though. She was laser focused. "This is... definitely Dad's design." Her fingers brushed against the frame of the robot's chest, only for it to pop open, revealing a scanner. A hand scanner. The robot suddenly shifted, and its eyes lit up a bright orange glow as it scanned the room. Jerry, Roderick, and Murphy immediately raised their weapons at it, but held their fire.

It just looked at Lily.

"IDENTIFICAZIONE: SHEN, LILY," came a loud, booming metallic monotone from the machine. "RECONFIGURARE."

"It's speaking Italian," Murphy deadpans. "We come all the way over here for a fucking Italian MEC unit."

"IDENTITY: SHEN, LILY. AWAITING IMPRESSION," it repeated, this time in perfect Valean.

"And now it's speaking English."

Pyrrha noted that apparently Valean and English are the same thing.

**"WHAT!? NO! THIS CANNOT BE WHAT FATHER WANTED!"**

"Aw, shit! I like Guidobot already if he's pissing off Julian this bad!" Roderick whooped, before the terminal next to him popped, sending sparks everywhere. "Jesus fuck!"

Shen smiled at the machine, running her hand over its face. "Something tells me this is exactly what he wanted."

"Lily! It's Shen's signal! It's coming from the MEC unit!" Alexios shouted over comms.

Lily pressed her hand against the scanner, and the machine perked up again.

"IDENTITY CONFIRMED. INITIATING BOOT PROTOCOLS."

The machine's hands unlocked, and rolled, and its head rotated a few times from side to side. It then rose, the platform it was standing on freeing it from its restraints, and spread its gait, looking over at the rest of the group.

"IDENTIFY YOURSELVES."

"Gregory Murphy MacAuley, XCOM."

"Jeremy Beauregard Hall, XCOM."

"Roderick Jonse Braddock, XCOM."

The bot turned to JNPR next, staring directly at Jaune. Murphy looked at them too, and nodded.

"Jaune Arc."

"Pyrrha Nikos," she spoke up.

"Nora Valkyrie!"

"Lie Ren."

"IDENTIFICATION LOGGED. **7** FRIENDLY CONTACTS. OBJECTIVE PARAMETERS UPDATED."

 **"NO!"** Julian exclaimed, static tearing at his voice and the screens bearing his likeness. **"I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU-"**

The screens changed, and now, instead of the red and orange 'Julian' display, there was now... an old man. An old man wearing wireframe glasses and a sweater with what appeared to be XCOM's sigil. The video was still grainy, and corrupted, and so was the audio. Lily looked awestruck.

"...It's really him," she said, voice quaking like a reed in the wind.

* * *

 

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might try to do something different with the next chapter. IDK how people feel about first person POV, but friends and pre-readers have told me they feel the story would be done more justice that way. Would love to hear your thoughts on this.


	13. Heavy Metal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPARK-001 is online.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sike you thought. Sticking to 3rd person for now.

_"Lily... if you are seeing this, it means that you have successfully activated the SPARK prototype. It also means that, in all likelihood, I am no longer with you. It was always among my greatest fears that I would leave you alone in this world."_

_"I had hoped this day would never come, but since the loss of the Commander, XCOM has... suffered. Our latest reports indicate we cannot hold this base much longer. To that end, I have accelerated the development of the SPARK robotic prototype. I believe that someday, this machine will prove pivotal to humanity's survival. Though the unit is not ready for manufacturing, this prototype has been coded for one specific task. It will protect you. Perhaps better than I ever could. For all I have seen and accomplished, Lily, there is one thing I know for sure..."_

_"You are my greatest gift to this world."_

* * *

 

Lily looked lost for words, and really, Jerry couldn't find any himself. He'd heard about Shen, but the man had died long before he even knew what XCOM was. Never even heard his voice until now. But now, here he was, handing XCOM his last gifts to their efforts to save the world... even if it was 20 years too late.

He had to admire the intent.

"Well... fuck me..." Rod muttered, looking back around the room.

 _"SHEN! It's filling the chamber with some kind of  gas!"_ Bradford suddenly cut in, jarring them all out of their sort of haze. The weird smell from earlier was back, only stronger.

This place was filled with freaking POISON GAS.

"SHUT THE BLOODY DOORS!" Murphy ordered, running to one side to do so, while Roderick and Jaune went to the other side.

"The windows are still open!" Jerry shouted, "It's not gonna do any good!"

 **"An extremely powerful and very** **_painful_ ** **gas. I have seen this particular variety reduce Berserkers to tears before death... on SEVERAL occasions. The prototype will still be mine."**

"IMMINENT THREAT DETECTED," the 'SPARK' droned. "ACTIVATING CLEAN ROOM PROTOCOLS. PLEASE REMAIN INSIDE FOR YOUR PROTECTION."

Suddenly, the windows of the room began to flicker and gleam in the low light. Hard light. Objects could pass through, but only if the seal was broken. Considering that there was nothing nearby to break it, that was a good sign. Once the doors were shut, Murphy looked around the room, trying to figure out good positions to wait out the storm.

"Shen, get behind the raised dais the robot was on. Jaune, Roddy, right side. Ren, Nora, front. I'll watch the left. Pyrrha, Jerry, you watch where we came in from. I highly doubt the wanker doesn't have somethin' else up his sleeve for just this occasion."

"DETECTING SECONDARY LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS. THIS GAS PRESENTS NO HAZARD TO MY SYSTEMS. NEUTRALIZING THREAT," the robot stated, before jumping through the clean room window with nary a moment's hesitation. This thing was _crazy_.

"I really, REALLY like this robot. Just this one." Rod bolted the door shut, and looked around the exterior of the now-sealed room, scanning for hostiles. "Hope it can take a hit, there's not much we can do from in here."

"Think he's made of sturdier stuff than you, Roddy!" Murphy replied, leaning up against the wall and revving his cannon.

**"I wouldn't get used to its company. I fully intend on walking out of here with that body."**

The SPARK started running, feet pounding against the metal floor and servos grinding as it suddenly lept clear onto the platform, right in front of what looked like two elevators, and some sort of power box/ terminal in the center. That must be the 'life support controls'. Jerry had to wonder why a factory would have life support... was this place DESIGNED with the poison gas? There's no way ADVENT was that crazy.

Actually, scratch that, they very well could be.

Turrets started to pop out from the floor in the bot's path. Roderick, Murphy, Ren, and Nora opened up with their respective firearms, sending them right back down, much to Shen's relief. Unfortunately for their sanity and safety, more started popping out of the floor around them.

"Oh, son of a..." Jerry muttered, reaching into his belt. He'd...

Forgotten the grenades.

Rising out of cover, he opened fire on one of the turrets, before a searing pain lit up his shoulder, followed by a cracking pain that sent him flying and stole his vision.

* * *

 

When his eyes opened, he noticed he didn't have his helmet on, his head was pounding like a _mother_ , and his mouth tasted like blood. Probably because he was bleeding. He was also all the way across the room, being dragged along by someone much bigger than him, probably Roddy.

Or... the giant robot dragging him along one handed. _God._

"Is he dead!?" Nora asked.

"I'm not dead," Jerry replied- groaned is more like it. The moment he even went to breathe he felt like his head was gonna crack open like a melon. Man... he'd need to check himself out when he got back to the Avenger. If he could stay conscious.

"Alright, well, we know who's going first, then! Up ya go!" Murphy took off his belt, and wrapped it around Jerry's arm, before attaching it to the hook on one side of the elevator, and pulling it as taut as he could. Probably didn't think Jerry could hold on. Smart.

"See you at the top!" Shen shouted over from the other side. Right, two elevators.

"Don't wait on us, we'll be quite a FUCKIN' while!"  Roderick shouted. "Oh, and don't fall! I think we're on floor... like, 75!"

"Oh, go to hell..." Jerry moaned, testing the tautness of the belt. Seemed like it would hold. Grabbing a hold of the other prong on the elevator with his free hand, since his weapon was apparently clipped to his back.  You know, now that he thought about it, 75 floors was a long fall-

Oh, for the love of...

The elevator shot up, and soon there was no light but for the passing white lights of the elevator shaft. The darkness was certainly a bit easier on the eyes.

Back downstairs, Murphy removed his fist from the elevator controls, and grabbed a firm hold of his minigun, looking over the assembled to see who was next on the docket. So far, Roddy was the only other wounded man, and the bot was extremely important. The kids were all also unharmed, but, Jaune had his pistol, which was worth much more to him than Jaune's life.

Okay, that was an exaggeration, but the point stood.

"Jaune, Roderick! Get ready to break for it!"

"Right!"

"You got it, Lieut!"

 **"Exactly how much ammo did you bring?"** 'Julian' asked no one in particular, once again dropping his bloody snide remarks where they weren't needed. Whether this was a person, or an AI, or whatever the fuck this little shit was, Murphy was already starting to hate him.

That PALED in comparison to what Roderick thought of him.

"ALRIGHT YOU FUCKING BITCH, I BROUGHT MORE THAN ENOUGH AMMO TO WIPE YOU FROM EVERY HARD DRIVE IN THE FUCKING ASIAN CONTINENT!" Roderick shouted, shooting down one of the MECs before turning his attention upwards. "UPLOAD YOURSELF INTO A FUCKING PHOTOCOPIER, SO I CAN BEAT YOU SO BAD YOU PRINT TEN THOUSAND COPIES OF MY FUCKING **FISTS!** "

"Creative," Ren noted, before, much to Murphy's visible discontentment, literally cartwheeled out of the way of a bullet. Not just one, actually. Multiple shots from a turret. Multiple cartwheels and flips. While firing his guns. "It's convenient that Earth's gravity is so similar to Remnant's!"

No one else commented, and Murphy just shook his head. This whole thing just got weirder by the day. Raking his minigun across the production floor, he managed to fell the other MEC, and destroy a couple of turrets once his aim took him to the rightmost balcony. He could hear the elevators coming much faster than the last set, probably because of a shorter travel distance. Good, he didn't feel like staying here any longer than he had to. A shot from out of the corner of his vision slammed into his hip, sending him stumbling to the left as he attempted to right himself, letting out an agonized wheeze. Right on the plates.

The Spark was already on the riposte, immediately getting its newly-acquired Drone buddy- still not sure where the damn thing got it, but it woke up around the same time it did- and pointed out the turret. The drone fired a damn ROCKET, and vaporized the turret in one shot.

"Where has this killer robot been all my life?" Nora asked, reaching to hug the machine, only to be cut off by Murphy.

"Can we NOT distract the robot while it's saving our lives?"

"ERROR: My combat parameters are fully functional, even while simultaneously occupied."

"Doesn't mean I want you fuckin' huggin' everyone while we're being SHOT AT!" Murphy shouted back at it. He was arguing with the robot. Truly he'd found a new low.

"Affirmative."

The robot turned its massive cannon forward, a few bullets harmlessly ricocheting off it as it opened up in retaliation. There wasn't much left when it was done.

Murphy had been observing the kids for most of the mission, and now, he was starting to get a feel for how they could be manipulated to work for him, and XCOM. He was pretty sure he'd nailed it down- Jaune was the team's leader, not by strength, but by brains. He seemed to be the one calling out targets and formulating plans, although he hadn't been doing much of the latter just yet. There was no other reason he'd be leader, really. He didn't hardly know how to use a gun. Pyrrha was the opposite- she was pretty damn sharp, but preferred to let her brawn do the hard work. She was a damn fine shot, too, the best out of the 4. She never missed unless something was dodging her shots outright. Ren was quick, and his trigger fingers were quicker. It was obvious he was some sort of scout/flanking operator, poking the enemy in a weak point. Nora just hit shit. HARD. Good, XCOM needed heavy hitters.

As long as these kids didn't surprise him and lose all competency, they'd do fine here on Earth. Being on what sounded like a world where death was literally staring down at you every time you felt a single negative emotion is likely a far better teacher than the SASR. So why did the thought of keeping them around make him sick to his stomach? Just... even the mere inkling of a suggestion felt like a punch to the gut. A _hefty_ one. Victory at any cost, right?

He just had a bad feeling about it. Like he'd be interfering in something private. What that was, he couldn't say, but it kept his wilder hairs about giving these kids some bigger guns and some better training in check. Remi didn't seem to have such inhibitions. Adam had his doubts, too, but his were more of the humanitarian, ethical nature- was it right to keep these kids away from their friends and family? Murphy was more practical- was it worth it to potentially damn humanity for meddling with forces beyond its grasp?

By the time he'd finished that particular line of thought, the elevators had come down and the turrets were gone. He'd been running on autopilot, really. Always got like this on ops, for better or for worse. He'd just get in The Zone, as his boys called it in the 'Teens. All he could hear was his team and the gunfire. All he could see was the enemy. All he could feel was bullets whizzing through the air, the slightest breeze, or the little changes in temperature that came with a whole lot of guns firing into the air at once. Time was no longer a factor, place wasn't a factor, hell, to a certain extent he didn't feel like a 51 year old man. He felt like a 32 year old bloke stomping through the brush with the boys again, tearing up ayys and turning Uluru into a shooting gallery.

Jaune and Roddy had gone up, waiting for time to go, and he could already hear the elevators again. He reloaded his gun. Didn't even know it was empty, he just _felt_ it in the way that he just seemed to _feel_ things now. Didn't know what it was about combat now, but it felt as natural to him as breathing. Like he'd learned how to fight right after he learned how to walk. Well, really, it wasn't THAT long afterwards in reality, but that wasn't combat, that was just proving to the bigger kids that he wasn't gonna bend over and take it. Training hardened him, focused him, turned him into a well-oiled machine, and now, he was working as intended.

Two more robots fell from the ceiling in front of them, while three rolled out on the left flank, and one on the right, with two turrets popping up nearby it. He could hear the elevators coming down as he whipped the grenade launcher off his hip, cycled to that new EMP grenade Shen had rolled out for him, and fired away at the turrets. Both of them were gone with a single blast, as was the MEC near them. Roderick and Jaune immediately broke off, grabbing hold of the lifts for dear life, while Murphy went back and punched them up again. That left himself, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren, and the bot. This was bad. 'Julian' was right- they had a finite supply of bullets, and Murphy was on his last mag. He wasn't sure about the kids, but they likely had an even MORE finite supply, from what Shen told them, as their propellant was unlike anything known on Earth. Really, the SPARK was their only hope, but one gun and 4 bodies wasn't going to do anyone much good.

"Alright, Pyrrha, Nora, you're next. Then Ren and the 'bot. I'll bring up the rear," Murphy ordered, revving his cannon and whipping about to the left, wrecking the robot that hadn't been felled by his comrades, before rapidly switching to the center of the room as one of the bots attempted to jump up to his level.

"You'll be completely on your own until the elevators come down," Pyrrha protested, looking away from the firefight for a split second, before snap-firing and taking the head off one of the MECs with reflexes that would make the trained combatants Murphy'd spent his entire life with green with envy.  

"Won't be the first time I've had to handle a piss-up with about a dozen things trying to kill me at once. First time with robots, though. I can handle it."

"Identity- Captain Gregory Murphy MacAuley, Special Operations Engineer Regiment," The SPARK suddenly said. "Prospective XCOM recruit. You have suffered a wound to your left side that may complicate your plan. Recommend a renewed tactical assessment."

Prospective XCOM recru- this robot fucking _knew_ his name!

"I recommend you follow orders, you sapient jerry can!"

"I cannot compromise the safety of assets. You will ascend via the elevator shaft."

"I think you should listen to the robot," Ren opined, rapidly reloading his pistols behind cover before popping back up and blowing away a couple of hostile MECs.

"Seconded!" Pyrrha followed.

"Second seconded!" Nora agreed.

"You lot need to stop worrying about my ancient arse and start takin' care of your damn selves," Murphy replied, frowning as he dropped down behind the low barrier in front of him, taking cover long enough to get his bearings.

"Our Aura would have healed that shot you just took within seconds. You might have severe damage that would require surgical repair, but unlike us, it won't heal on its own," Pyrrha explained rapidly from behind the sights of her gun. "It would likely make us look a bit better to those of your comrades with doubts if everyone returned alive."

You know, she had a point.

"Right. The robot goes last, then," he stated.

"Affirmative," the SPARK replied.

Murphy let out a long, ragged exhale as the pain in his side flared up again, and readied his weapon. "Fuckin' _hell_."

* * *

 

The elevator ride thankfully ended without any incident, and although Jaune will be the first to admit that the ride was HELL on his stomach, everyone had made it so far. Shen was already waiting behind some sort of tower on the roof, while Jerry was sitting against it, blood smeared across his face near eye level, the wound on his head still weeping red into the large bandage he'd gotten wrapped around his head.

Roderick's leg was giving him a bit of grief too, as his 'quick' 'sprint' over to the other two XCOM guys was more of an awkward hobble towards them. Jaune followed, skidding to a halt next to the injured medic, who was just looking up at him.

"You okay?" Jaune asked him.

He gave a thumbs up. "Hurts like hellfire, but I'll be fine. You?"

"I'm good," Jaune replied, sliding to a seated position. "Just nearly got shot in the face a few times, separated from my team, currently on a planet where my Aura seems to work on a whim... I'm doing pretty well, all things considered."

Jerry chuckled, leaning on his rifle. "Shoot. And here I was thinking you'd come up here to save the day for me. Always room for disappointment, I suppose."

"Yeah, I'm kind of a disappointment in general."

"Relaaaaaaaax. You haven't fucked anything up yet, which is more than I can say for today," Roderick assured him, wincing as he stretched out his battered leg. "Fuck..."

"You're fine, you big baby. It looks like just a flesh wound," Jerry assured him, before wiping his face again. "Good news is, we're almost out of the woods-"

The elevator came up, this time with Murphy and Nora. The latter looked perfectly chipper coming up the stairs, while the former looked like he was in a good bit of pain. He was sort of struggling, and there was a rather large burnt-out hole in the armored plate on his hip.

"You okay, Lieut?" Roderick asked.

"Fine. We're almost done here. Just gotta wait for Pyrrha, Ren, and the bot."

"I still can't believe that Dad was able to... make something like that. He was so busy working on the Avenger..." Lily wondered aloud, looking at her PDA for... something. Jaune didn't really know that many of these people's backgrounds, and even though they'd talked a little at the bar, most of this was still a mystery to him. From what he'd gathered from their chatting during the mission, it sounds like this fight had been going on for a while.

"Yeah, well, from what I hear, your dad was a fuckin' braniac. I'm surprised there's not more than one." Roderick looked around the corner of the little tower- Jaune guessed he was looking to see if they were alone. "Looks like this was a secondary loading dock, kinda like the one we landed on. Only bigger."

"Any activity?" Murphy asked.

"Nope. All quiet."

Speaking of quiet, things got awful quiet between them for a few minutes. Everyone just looked at each other, except for Nora, who just seemed focused on waiting for the elevator. In fact, she was staring pretty intently down the staircase. Murphy noticed this.

"Bradford, you still got eyes on 'em?"

_"Confirmed. They're holding. Don't know how they still haven't reloaded."_

"Fuckin' space magic," Roderick replied, rolling his eyes.

"No, seriously, how have they not reloaded?" Jerry asked, looking to Nora for a solution. "Nora, your grenade launcher can only hold so many grenades, right?"

"Six!" she replied.

"See, that's, like, normal. Jaune- doesn't have a gun, never mind."

Jaune frowned. Was _everyone_ gonna comment on that, regardless of what world he was on?

The elevators could be heard coming up again, much to everyone's apparent collective relief. Almost home.

 _'You know',_ Jaune thought to himself, _'other than the getting shot at and nearly dying on the elevator parts, this wasn't so bad.'_

The elevators stopped, and Nora smiled. "Hey, guys!"

Pyrrha and Ren hustled up after her, with the loud CLANK of the robot following them. It had to crouch to get under the entryway.

"Gang's all here! Bradford, get me Firebrand!" Murphy called.

_"She's on her way, Lieutenant. Hang tight."_

**"You do know I can still hear you, right?"** 'Julian' interrupted. Evidently he'd somehow gotten into XCOM's communications, because Jaune could hear him in his earpiece now.

"Oh, FUCK OFF!" Roderick shout-wined, his exhaustion with the situation palpable. Jaune could very well empathize.

Jerry stood up, wincing and clutching at his head as he attempted to sort himself out. "He's gonna be sending friends."

"And I'll kill his fucking friends, and then I'm gonna dropkick him right in the FUCKING motherboard!"

Man, Roderick was _angry._

"Tighten up, Rod. We've got a fight comin'..." Murphy grumbled, looking over to Shen. "Stay behind us." His gaze then shifted to JNPR. "We're gonna need your help. You watch our backs, we'll watch yours."

"You can count on us," Jaune agreed, looking back at his team. "Right?"

They all nodded, Nora pumping her fist excitedly and reloading Magnhild. Turning back to the others, Jaune nodded at Murphy, and the older man nodded back.

"Roderick, what do you see?" he asked.

"Bunch of nothin', Lieut. Big generator in the center of the rooftops, another set of elevators on the far side, to the left, and to the right of us. Got some kind of storage room ahead, too. Looks like some kind of machine inside. I've seen something like it before, back in the mountains, but... can't tell for sure."

"Let's find out, Firebrand's gonna be here in T-minus-five." With that, Murphy strode forward, only halting when he looked at the 'storage room' Roderick saw. Jaune had followed him, with JNPR and Jerry backing him up until they were stopped by the commanding officer's sudden stop.

"Roderick."

"Yes, sir?"

"That's a _fucking Pod._ "

"A what?"

 **"Allow me to introduce you to one of ADVENT's more effective designs..."** Julian spoke up, this time audible from somewhere else, not just the earpieces. It sounded like it was coming from that storage room itself. **"I had hoped to avoid this contingency, but, you have left me no choice."**

Jaune looked where Roderick and Murphy were looking, and saw something slowly rising in the storage room. It was bipedal, with long, chicken legs that seemed too long to fit in that room. It was like it compressed itself down, its 'legs' were up past its head. It was blank white, save for some sort of visor on the front, which gleamed in the faraway room, shining against the glass between it and them.

**"If I cannot have the SPARK, then no one shall. Raymond Shen's legacy ends TODAY."**

"Oh, SHIT, he's in a fuckin' GIANT ROBOT!"

"Back up!"  Murphy shouted, diving behind some large metal crates, with Roderick following suit. Jaune ducked back around the corner, peeking out and watching as the walking machine broke through the walls of the storage room with ease, stepping out into the open air with loud, metallic thuds.

"We are gonna need a really good plan," Jerry stated from behind Jaune.

"I'll think of something, shit, shit, shit..." Murphy muttered, reloading his minigun and looking over the crates as the robot scanned for them. It noticed Jerry first.

**"We'll start with you."**

"Oh, for the love of-"

Jerry leapt from one side of the gap to the other, landing awkwardly on the other side of the roof from JNPR, behind the parallel tower, as the 'Pod' fired some sort of rapid fire laser after him. It missed every shot, but it was obvious the thing wasn't done, spreading its stance and, much to Jaune's consternation, getting taller. Its legs stretched all the way out, and now it was looming over the towers they'd hidden behind.

"FUCK!" Roderick shouted, popping up and shooting at the machine, his shots barely doing more than scratching the plate. Murphy ran out from cover himself, running between the thing's legs and attempting to sweep around the back of it, only for a hail of gunfire to change his mind.

"Oh, kiss my ARSE!" he shouted, and Jaune saw where the fire was coming from. Some more of the smaller robots had come up from the elevators and were menacing Murphy.

**"I'm afraid you're going to die up here."**

"THE FUCK I AM!" Roderick shouted back. "MURPHY, GET A GRENADE ON IT!"

"A bit busy here!" Murphy replied, running the opposite direction from where he was headed, eventually sliding to a halt next to the generator.

The generator.

That was it!

"I have a plan," Jaune said, turning back to his team. "Guys, keep the little guys busy. Lily!"

Shen looked up.

"I need you and your robot to come with me!"

"What's your plan!?" Jerry asked as Julian turned to look at Roderick, who was still shouting angrily at the thing as it raised its foot over him.

"It involves something exploding! I think! I hope!"

"Good idea!" Shen agreed. "The ge-"

"He's listening!" Jaune shriked, pointing at the giant robot. "Don't!"

**"Listening to what, boy?"**

"Nothing, shut up!"

"LOOK AT ME, YOU BIG SON OF A BITCH!"

With that, there was an explosion, and the robot staggered backwards a step. Roderick grinned ear to ear, the grenade now missing from his belt and his hand still at the end of his throwing arc. He looked back at Jaune, and nodded.

"We'll do what we can!" Pyrrha assured him. "Whatever you're going to do, do it fast!"

"If it works, it'll be over before we know it!"

With that, Jaune took off running, as did the rest of JNPR. He could hear Shen, the SPARK and Roderick behind him, while he could see Ren and Nora moving to assist Murphy. Pyrrha and Jerry had moved on their own to take out some more of the robots coming from the right side. Murphy seemed grateful for the aid, backing up while pouring fire into the approaching robots as Nora slid in front of him, using her hammer to take the legs out from under one that was charging him, followed by crushing it beneath the weight of her weapon.

Jaune stopped just short of getting checked in the face by the fist of a robot that had charged in front of him, his shield barely catching the impact as he was thrown back a good foot away from the generator. Jerry saw his predicament, and looked at 'Julian,' before raising his rifle and firing at the giant robot himself. It staggered, but attempted to chase after him while he pointed Pyrrha over to Jaune. Pyrrha complied almost immediately, switching her weapon over to rifle form and blasting the arm off the attacking robot in the midst of its second swing, allowing Jaune to jam Crocea Mors into one of its 'eyes' and twist until it fell limp.

"So what now!?" Roderick asked.

"Big robot guy, follow me with Shen! Roderick, go do... something that isn't attacking Julian!"

"Well, great fucking plan!"

"Just roll with it!"

Roderick groaned, and hobbled off towards Murphy and Nora, who were beating a path towards some better cover- specifically, the room the giant robot stomped out of. They seemed to be pretty much on the same page, interestingly enough, though Jaune thought it odd that two totally different people (at least from what he knew of Murphy) could be so in sync. Then again, Nora bounced off Ren really well. She just seemed to get along with a lot of people.  Meanwhile, Ren joined up with Jerry and Pyrrha, the last of whom was still looking after Jaune, before suddenly pulling a 180 and shooting over Jerry's shoulder, hitting a robot in front of him directly in the head as the medic kicked it back.

"Alright! Jerry, Ren, come to me and shoot that thing! Pyrrha, go with Nora and Murphy and wait for my signal!"

 _'This plan better work, or else we're goin' off this roof the hard way!'_ Murphy shouted into comms.

"Just trust me!"

"We're trustin' ya!" Jerry shouted from in front of Jaune. "What now?"

"Lily! Giant robot guy! Jerry! Light him up!"

Julian was still tracking Jerry, having lowered himself to turn a bit faster. He was already rising back up to full height again, a bunch of red targeting lasers converging on Jaune and company, who were currently, save for Jaune, lighting it up.

**"I'm afraid that isn't going to do you much good. You're not even trying to run?"**

"Nope! Nora, Murphy, the legs! Everybody spread out!"

Jaune dashed forward, the rest of the group scattering for cover in every direction. The 'SPARK' seemed to take the initiative on its own, though, charging forward and grabbing a hold of one of Julian's legs as Nora charged in, spinning around and smashing her hammer into the other, causing the giant machine to wobble unsteadily. So far, so good.

"Pyrrha, push him over!"

"You've got it!"

Pyrrha's Semblance picked up the hard work from there, and a dawning look of realization hit Murphy, Roderick, and Jerry's faces, the former actually grinning now, as he pulled his grenade launcher off his back and started to turn his aim away from Julian, and towards the generator, right as Pyrrha used what little bit of her power that they could muster up to shove Julian forward, causing the big machine to collapse 'head' first into the generator.

 **"You little ANNOYANCE!"** Julian shouted, some sort of giant laser...gun...thing deploying out of his 'chin' and aiming directly at Jaune, charging up with a burst of red energy. A really, REALLY big burst. Like, the size of Jaune's head and getting BIGGER. Jaune shoved his shield up and braced for the worst...

"Big FUCKIN' fireball, comin' right up!" Murphy shouted, raising his weapon and firing two grenades at the generator in rapid succession. The first didn't do much, but the second one sent the generator up in a mass of blue flame, engulfing the fallen machine and sending its head flying upwards, along with the rest of its body, a good ten or fifteen feet up, before it crashed back down. The rest of the robots around the rooftop suddenly stopped dead, as if they'd been frozen in time. A few that were in unbalanced positions even fell over, completely still. Shen peeked out from behind a stack of crates, while the SPARK nonchalantly dusted off its shoulder. Ren walked over to Pyrrha, who had sheathed her weapon and shield and started surveying the damage, while Murphy used his free hand to contact Bradford.

"I like that plan. Simple, effective, and more importantly, IT KILLED THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Roderick suddenly shouted from behind Jaune as he half-hobbled into the huntsman-in-training, slapping him full-force on the back so hard that his aura actually flickered. "GET FUCKED!"

Murphy lowered his weapon, and nodded approvingly. "Saved a lot of bullets, but probably shaved a year off me, that runnin' did. Don't make me do nothin' wild like that again, hear?"

"Everyone okay?" Jerry asked, walking past the derelict robot and looking over the rest of the group, checking them all out for injuries. "Besides me, I mean. Jeez, I feel like I got put through the ringer..."

The whole group assembled near the knocked out robot, with Roderick making a show of walking up and sitting on the fallen Julian in what Jaune could only assume was a petty desire for vengeance. Murphy half-collapsed against the thing himself, resting his grenade launcher on his shoulder and looking over JNPR with a look Jaune wasn't quite sure about.

"I'm gonna try and get some readings from that Sectopod," Shen stated, motioning her little drone over to do just that, while Murphy scooched over to accommodate it. The lieutenant looked to Jaune, first, tipping his hat.

"Had my doubts about this whole thing, but I'm glad you came along. Coulda gone a lot worse if we didn't have backup."

"Yeah," Jerry agreed. "I can barely stand right now, if we'd have been fighting for much longer, I'd probably have just dropped."

"Told you I had the right idea," Roderick stated proudly, thumping his chest. "Told 'em all you four would pull through, and you did. Although you definitely had a close call, Jaune-boy. We're gonna teach you how to shoot one of these days."

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, and chuckled nervously. His aim did kinda suck... he hated guns. Ranged weapons in general, really. His dad called 'em 'coward's weapons', so did his grandpa, and that just stuck in his head ever since he was a kid. Now that he actually kinda needed one a little bit to, you know, not get murdered in hand to hand combat, it was starting to seem a _little bit_ less cowardly. "Y-yeah. Sounds like a good idea."

"Actually, come to think of it, is there a training area aboard the Avenger? Besides the area where we had our impromptu CQC session?" Pyrrha asked. "Jaune and I used to train regularly, but we've not been thinking about that since we got... here."

"Yeah, I'll show you when we get back," Murphy agreed. "Ain't nothin' special, but it'll suit the need. Hell, you have a gun. You could probably teach him how to shoot, yourself."

"I'm not that good of a shot, Lieutenant."

"The fuck you aren't," the old man half-guffawed, pointing over his shoulder. "You never missed once."

Pyrrha just smiled awkwardly and cut her eyes at Jaune. Not like he knew anything.

"Anyhow, Firebrand's comin' around. Grab your shit, push your insides back in, and let's go. And Jaune, please do NOT vomit on the Skyranger. I'm not cleanin' up for you even if you saved our collective arse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OGH Headcanon Time!
> 
> Pyrrha not only uses her Semblance to fuck with her opponents, she uses it for herself (hence the ridiculous javelin throw from initiation and, for the purposes of this fic, her godly aim with everything else.)


	14. This is Step One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team JNPR survived their first mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat short chapter here, but you guys deserve an update. Plus, gotta plant these seeds somewhere. Credit to Sgt_Chrysalis for the beta, pls read their stuff, it's better than mine.

The ride back to the Avenger wasn't too eventful. Whatever medicine Jerry had given Jaune was kicking in, so he wasn’t heaving his guts out. Ren and Nora were unharmed, and Pyrrha was fine, but the champion couldn't say the same about their new friends.

Murphy had his hand on the wound on his hip, which seemed to be a minor one considering he was able to get on the aircraft with ease. Shen was a bit rattled, but physically unharmed. Unfortunately,  Roderick wasn't doing too well; his shoulder wound didn't appear severe, but the hits to his right leg-one in the hip, one the shin- seemed to be bothering him severely. And Jerry... he looked horrible. He'd peeled off the makeshift bandages, and his head was still bleeding, although it had started to dry and start crusting up. He'd medicated himself when he got on board, but that only seemed to dull the pain, but not much else, judging by the obvious pain he was in.

A _lot_ of people were waiting for them at the little landing platform on the outside of the Avenger. Pyrrha could see Bradford, Adam, and Alexios furthest forward, with Sophie eagerly waiting behind them. Lawrence, Remi, Phil, and Declan stood behind her, while two people in lab coats were embroiled in conversation and pointing up at the now-descending Skyranger.

Standing up slowly and bracing his arm on some overhead sling on the ceiling of the Skyranger's seating area, Murphy groaned in pain. "Well, that was a fun trip that I have no intention of _ever_ repeating.” Roderick also stood, but Jerry remained seated, drawing concern from Shen and Roderick.

"Can you stand?" the latter asked, moving over to help his friend, who waved him off.

"Just gimme a sec. 'm fine." Jerry didn't SOUND fine at all, but he'd live... hopefully. Pyrrha wasn't sure what kind of damage these people could take.

The Skyranger completed its Touchdown, and already Pyrrha could hear clamoring outside the Avenger. No sooner had the door dropped then did Sophie attempt to bolt over, only to be stopped by Lawrence reaching over and grabbing her by the arm.

"Easy! Chill!" Lawrence protested, catching her arm with

"I need to see if he's okay!" Sophie demanded.

"He's not gonna die in three seconds, just calm down," he assured her.

Pyrrha assumed that was regarding Jerry. From what she'd seen and heard so far, they seemed to have some sort of relationship, although Pyrrha couldn't say to what extent. Jerry evidently heard her, and forced himself up slowly, groaning in pain and clutching his head midway through his ascent. Jaune quickly moved over to straighten him out.

"Thanks."

"You need help?" Jaune asked.

"Little bit, maybe."

Murphy exited the vehicle first, waving off everyone who looked at him, followed by Ren and Nora, then Roderick, who immediately hobbled over to Phil, who nodded at him and looked down at his leg. Pyrrha followed Roderick, but waited at the end of the ramp for her partner and the medic, the latter of whom didn't seem to be enjoying the shift in lighting. One of the two people in lab coats ran up, a woman a little bit older than Jerry, it seemed, and grabbed him.

"I'll take him from here."

"Thanks," both Jerry and Jaune said in unison.

As she helped him along, Pyrrha turned her attention to a particular face. Adam was looking at them, and immediately caught her looking. He raised an eyebrow, looked her up and down, and nodded. She guessed that was the closest thing to approval she was gonna get. He quickly motioned for her and the other members of JNPR to follow him.

It wasn't long before they were ushered inside the 'GTS', as it had been called by Murphy, where Bradford and Murphy stood before them alongside Adam and another fourth man Pyrrha didn't recognize beside them. Adam seemed to recognize him, though, and said man seemed to recognize Team JNPR as a whole.

"Y'all did pretty good," the stranger said. "Ezekiel Collins, by the by. “

"What he said," Murphy agreed. "You kids kicked arse, and I don't just say that to flatter you. You held up pretty damn good."

"Jaune can't fight worth half a damn, but he's good at thinking things up on the fly. You're definitely gonna need some polishing if you're gonna survive out there," Adam continued, turning his attention to her team leader, who looked a bit nervous. "It'll take some time, but I think you'll be fine so long as you have your teammates covering for you."

"Thanks, I guess." Jaune grinned nervously, but the old veteran didn't return the gesture.  Pyrrha supposed that was as close as they would get to approval.

"Go rest up for a bit," Bradford ordered, "then meet up with us here again at 1700. That's four hours from now. I have something I want to broach with the four of you. What you do with your free time is up to you- train, catch up on sleep, whatever you need to do." Turning to Adam, he continued. "Get Menace ready, you'll be saddling up for the flight at 1800."

Adam sighed before exiting the room, calling up the rest of Menace team on his earpiece. Pyrrha looked over at Alexios, who motioned for her to follow him.

By the time she'd reached him, he'd gotten the rest of team JNPR to do the same. He seemed in a pretty good mood as he led them to the bunks, where Joseph was waiting with a box.

"Ah, shite, sir, you're just in time! Got all the stuff sorted out!"

"Excellent." Turning back to team JNPR, he motioned towards the box, which Joseph was starting to empty. "Don't want you to just be wearing armor and gear all day, so we got you some of the jumpsuits our off-duties wear. They're not the greatest things in the world, but you get used to them. Plus, they're full body, perfectly suited for the climate control systems on the Avenger, and it's an easy zip system. One in the front, one in the back."

Joseph lifted up one of the examples, an all black jumpsuit, and tossed it to Jaune. "Ye can change here if ya want, we don't care none."

"Yeah, we're going up to the bridge to do some cracking, then we'll be getting grub with Menace. Dunno if you guys wanna do something in particular."

"Actually," Pyrrha spoke up, turning to Jaune. She'd been meaning to broach this earlier, but it had only come up on the ride back due to, you know, all the stress surrounding recent events. "Jaune, we should probably get some sparring in. It might be a good idea to sharpen up, especially after today. I could feel a bit of rust when we were fighting."

"Top deck of the Avenger's perfect for a bit of open-air contact," Alexios suggested.

"Yeah, that's a good plan," Jaune agreed, before turning to Ren and Nora. "What about you guys?"

"I think I'm going to take a quick rest. I'm feeling a bit winded," Ren replied.

"I'm hungry!" Nora shouted. "Also, remember what Murphy said this morning about ice grenades? Wellllllllllllllllllllllllllll-"

"Nora... please don't freeze anything important."

Alexios smiled awkwardly, while Joseph just nodded.

"Aye, suppose the chief wouldn't mind showin' her how the cryos work, eh sir?"

"I kinda think Central would mind."

"Ah, come on, what's the harm!?"

Alexios pinched the bridge of his very prominent nose and groaned. "There's a lot of delicate systems on this ship that don't need to get frozen by an errant fucking grenade... whatever, Murphy's smart, he'll keep shit sane. Come on, Nora."

"Awwwwwwww yeah!"

With that, Nora bolted after the two soldiers, leaving just Ren, Pyrrha, and Jaune. Ren had already plopped down on the bed Nora had claimed the other night, and stretched himself out. "Good luck, you two."

* * *

 

The outer deck of the Avenger was an isolated place, most of the time. Even in the resistance havens, it was a semi-calm port in the storm, and with the Avenger having stayed at a secondary base in Kamatchka, it wasn't too bad of weather. A bit chilly, but not too severe.

Lawrence enjoyed the cool air, letting the breeze hit his head on and ruffle his hair a bit as he watched the cloudless sky. Sometimes looking on God's creation just put him at ease. Especially when it was quiet and isolated like Firebase Kama. The Russians here kept almost entirely to themselves, didn't bother XCOM unless they needed something, so the Avenger was quiet save for the usual hustle and bustle. Not quite quiet, but quieter than usual.

As such, he was surprised to hear the doors of the hangar bay opening, and even more surprised it wasn't a member of Menace coming to pester him. Nope, it was Jaune and Pyrrha. Had they been sent up here, or did they just find their way on their own?

He decided to just wait and see, sort of backing into the shade to watch.

"Okay, Jaune. You remember the techniques we last went over, right?" Pyrrha started, rolling her shoulders and stretching herself out in preparation for whatever they were about to do. He noticed now that their weapons were on their backs. Were they... planning something? Maybe sparring?

"Uh... kinda?"

"Okay then, what were they?"

"...um... footwork?"

"No, that was the session before. You were working on your parries and counter-offense, remember?"

"Oh, uh, right. I might need a refresher."

"Right, so..."

Lawrence didn't know much about fighting with melee weapons. When you trained with the Deltas, you learned how to fight with your fists, your combat knife, and a shovel—among other things—but never with something as anachronistic as a sword and shield. Hell, the XCOM Rangers using swords was an enigma to him. Still, from what it sounded like from their barroom conversation, these kids knew their way around a sword.

Well... not Jaune, but still.

The two began some experimental sword strokes, Pyrrha demonstrating a technique involving pushing outward against impact with the shield before making a thrust from behind it. Basic stuff, Lawrence knew nothing about swordplay, but he could see the purpose behind it. Simple stuff.

Jaune and Pyrrha started to pick up the pace a little bit, the blonde picking up what Pyrrha had just shown him admirably, although he evidently had some flaws in his technique that Pyrrha stopped to point out to him. Lawrence watched her demonstrate again, and Jaune repeats the action, a little bit better this time.

These two had... something. Lawrence wasn't sure what it was, but it wasn't the thing that Nora and Ren had. It was obvious the latter two were like siblings. These two had an odd relationship. Like, a teacher-student one, but also a relationship between peers. It was an odd dynamic, especially to have at their age. God, his kids were older than these two. Alex's kid was their age, and here they were teaching each other combat techniques. What the hell kinda hellscape WAS Remnant? Ezekiel didn't talk about it when he came back, and Lawrence didn't dare ask. It sounded bad enough just from the history lesson they'd given in the bar...

"You're doing well, Jaune, but you're overextending with your sword. You still need to keep your shield close in case your opponent attempts to stay on the offensive. Aggression is important, but you can't let it dominate your technique." Pyrrha demonstrated just that, performing a short thrust with her blade from behind her shield, while still covering her midsection.

"Right, right."

The two continued their little spar, eventually turning at an angle to where Lawrence was shocked they didn't see him. He coulda swore he locked eyes with Pyrrha when she pivoted on her foot parallel to him. The two pushed towards him, then Jaune pushed her back enough to put Pyrrha on the back foot and start her moving backward.

 _"Lawrence, I've got you on cams, what the hell are you doing up there?"_ came a sudden interruption from Adam over comms.

"Observation," Lawrence stated under his breath, trying not to draw attention to himself. "Just looking."

_"Never took you for a peeping tom. We're briefing in 20."_

"Yeah, yeah."

_"Not 'yeah, yeah', I need you down here!"_

"You know me. I'm geared up and ready to go. Keep your boxers straight, I'll be down there in a minute."

_"Fuck's sake."_

With that, Lawrence went back to silent observation. For another good five minutes, he watched Jaune and Pyrrha sparring, trading blows that came just short of doing damage- he could tell they were holding back significantly and were uncomfortable doing so. Perhaps that Aura stuff made training more physical?- and practically dancing around each other in an attempt to disarm or unbalance the other. It was obvious from the start that Pyrrha was the more experienced of the two, but the longer the spar went on, the greater the gap in skill became. Pyrrha was shifting her sword into a sort of short spear, then back to a sword, then back again rapidly, while Jaune could only swing his shield into the path of strikes and make sloppy attacks with a sword that were easily batted aside.

Lawrence took a tentative, casual step out of the shadow, and into the light.

Finally, it looked like the spar was reaching its end. Jaune made a wide, lopping swing with his blade, which Pyrrha refused to duck or block, instead of meeting it with her own behind her back, before pushing out with her front-facing shield arm and knocking Jaune flat on his back, before shifting her weapon back to a lance and pointing it at his neck.

"Good effort, Jaune! You've gotten much better. It's obvious the week off had an effect on both of us though."

Now that was a fucking lie. No way that girl had any rust on her.

Pyrrha extended her free hand to her friend, and pulled him up pretty much effortlessly, before finally noticing that Lawrence was standing there. "Oh! Hello again, Lieutenant!"

"Afternoon, young lady, Jaune. Y'all seem to be keepin' busy."

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, wincing when he realized he still had his sword in that hand and quickly withdrew. "Uh, yeah. We didn't hear you come up, sorry."

"That's cause y'all got here AFTER I did. Just was observing, is all. Our Rangers could learn a thing or two from you."

"Rangers?" Jaune repeated, confused.

"XCOM combat doctrine's got a bunch of different specialties and sub-specialties for operators-in-training. Rangers are our stealth-recon-skirmish guys, the ones with swords, axes, hammers, stuff like that. Roderick, Remi, and Declan, for example, you've met all them."

"Oh. Right. Rangers."

"I highly doubt that, Lieutenant. Although I'm no novice, I'm only a teenager. Most of your comrades have been fighting for years, from what I've gathered," Pyrrha retorted.

"Hand to hand combat has been out of fashion for hundreds of years on Earth, Pyrrha. We don't have Aura. A single bullet is enough to kill a man here," Lawrence explained. "Even with body armor and metal plate between you and the shooter, there are still bullets big enough to kill anyone. You don't get into CQC much anymore."

Pyrrha seemed surprised at this revelation. She probably was expecting tougher opposition. By Lawrence's estimation, if that "Aura" crap was working right, she could have killed everyone on the Avenger herself. "Then why do you still use melee weapons?"

"It's a lot harder to hear a sword, axe, or hammer hitting the back of someone's head than a gun."

"Yeah, makes sense," Jaune agreed.

"Like I said, though. Most of our guys don't have any experience with sword stuff. I think only Watanabe does, and that's because he was into that creative anachronism shit back in the world. Y'all should try running up on some of our guys, they could use the practice."

Pyrrha seemed to think about it, turning to Jaune. "Jaune, what do you think about that?"

"I mean... I dunno what we could teach you guys, but okay, I guess."

"Oh, buh-lieve me. You could teach us a lot."

* * *

No more than about 10 minutes later, and Ren woke. Bradford had said something about an operation earlier, but Ren didn't catch the details. His little power nap had been interrupted by the sound of Jack yelling and making a scene out in the hallway about... something or another. With a bit of eavesdropping, he caught them leaving. Then, he went back to sleep.

About two hours later, he woke up once more and noted the time on the clock. 1600 hours. That was pretty close to the time Bradford wanted to meet with them, he might as well start moving around. Attempting to get up, he noticed a weight around his waist and looked down to find Nora snuggled up to him, as she often seemed to do when they were sleeping in strange places. Adorable, and really flattering, but he kind of had things he needed to do.

Somehow extricating himself from Nora's vice grip for the umpteenth time in their many years of life together, he stretched himself out and turned to face Jerry, who had somehow snuck into the room unnoticed. He looked... well, terrible.

"Private Hall."

"Corporal, now, but you can just call me Jerry,” he corrected Ren.

"Very well then. How are you feeling, Jerry?"

Jerry smirked, his eyes half-shut and ringed with black. He had a bandage wrapped around the upper portion of his head, stopping just short of his crown and even covering a good bit of hair, and going as low as just over his left eye. He wasn’t wearing a jumpsuit like the other off-duties were- he instead seemed to only be wearing his duty pants and a t-shirt- and wrapped with bandaging and medical tape. "Docs say it's not as bad as it looks. Actually was only a minor concussion. I'm conscious, just a bit out of it. They want me resting and medicating for 5 days, and then another day for a physical."

"I'm glad your wounds aren't too severe."

"Me too, Ren, me too. I'm gonna sit down."

Ren stepped out of Jerry's way as he went for the bunkroom's couch, and finagled his way to a remote, turning on the television to some or another news station. He turned back to look at Ren and offered him a seat next to him.

"You're not gonna just stand there until 1700, right?"

"You caught that part?"

"I'm injured, not deaf. I can only assume they're gonna ask you about your feelings on the op. None of you got hurt, and you all did some crazy shit."

"I suppose we acquitted ourselves well," Ren agreed, hopping over the back of the couch and taking a seat. "But, we couldn't have done it without you."

"If you knew the area and had intel, you coulda. We just guided you along."

"The grenades were integral to Jaune's plans, and without Murphy, Jaune wouldn't have been able to fight off the last of the robots without resorting to melee combat, a dangerous proposition when our Aura is unstable. Without you, Roderick wouldn't have gotten medical assistance after he got injured, and without Roderick, you'd have been erased by that robot. We all played a part in the mission's success."

"That's a good way of looking at it, I guess. Thanks, kiddo."

Ren simply nodded, watching and listening to the news that made absolutely no sense to him out of context. Apparently, riots were being suppressed, the number of medical treatments was rising meteorically, and the 'Speaker' was to make a speech next 'Friday', whenever that was.

"Who is the Speaker?" Ren asked.

"Traitor jack- _jerk_ who's basically the voice of ADVENT. I'd love to stick a bullet in him, but I'm not sure even that would shut him up."

Ren raised an eyebrow and turned just slightly to look at Jerry out of the corner of his eye. "Why haven't you?"

"We don't have the reach to hit him directly. We've got three bases. This one, one in South America, and one back in Michigan, where we met you."

"Where are we now?"

"Kamatchka Peninsula, in Russia. Know that doesn't make much sense to you, but you did ask. "

That, indeed, told him very little. "Thank you, regardless."

"No prob."

Silence resumed for a little while as Jerry checked the clock again. Ren did the same-20 minutes had already passed.

"So, you guys... you're all teenagers. And yet you're out doing combat training, live fire missions against monsters, and stuff like that?" Jerry asked.

"Yes. It's part of the training. They can't dull the danger, lest we be caught unprepared when the time comes."

"That's... kinda sick, not gonna lie. Not the good sick either. Like... that sounds bad."

"It's a necessary step for our world."

"Kids don't have any business putting their lives on the line."

"Our world and yours have different standards, they work differently. We face dangers you do not and vice versa. I feel you would understand if you spent time on Remnant."

"The more I hear about it, the less I want to go. One of our guys says he went there by accident, through a warp like the one you walked through. What do you think of that?"

"It's possible. I would rather speak to him before I made a definitive judgement about it."

"I dunno if Zeke went with Menace or not, but when he gets back, feel free to ask. Apparently, he briefed Murphy and Adam. They seemed convinced, matched up with what you told us at the bar."

"We didn't tell you very much."

"Well, it matched up with what little you told us."

"Ah, I see. What is this man's name?"

"Ezekiel Collins. Goes by Zeke. Pink-Purple eyes, you can't miss him."

Ren found that particularly odd. From what he had observed, most of Earth's 'human' population had muted colors, eyes, hair, and skin. More earth tones and drabs. A man with pink eyes like his would probably stand out pretty clearly.

"Thank you, Jerry. I'll be sure to talk to him."

"No prob, kiddo."

Ren could hear Nora stirring behind them, and looked over his shoulder. Jerry did the same, smiling back at her.

"Morning!" he called out, a bit weakly. It was obvious the head injury had an adverse effect on him.

"Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!" she called out. "My legs are sore. Carry me, my faithful steed."

"You can walk, Nora."

" _Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!_ " she groaned, but nevertheless got up. "What time did he say he need us for? Seventeen-thousand?"

"Seventeen-hundred," Jerry piped up. "38 minutes from now. GTS is probably a solid 5-minute walk from here, so I'd head out in 30. "

"Alright. I'm going to find Jaune and Pyrrha, we need to have a team meeting."

"What about, Ren?"

"Just to touch base, Nora. I'm pretty sure we're all a bit unsure of where to go from here."

"Hey! It's alright to be a bit wired considering the situation," Jerry called out from the couch, before throwing a thumbs up. "I'm always here if you need a shoulder or a hand. Don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks, Jerry!" Nora smiled wide and waved with both hands at the injured medic, who just waved back and turned back to the news.

Ren didn't dare say anything, but his Semblance seemed to be working perfectly fine. Perhaps Earth's environment only affected active Semblances, but that was beside the point. He could feel the emotions of those closest to him, physically and in the emotional sense. And every second he spent with Jerry felt like sitting on a landmine.

* * *

 

**35 minutes later**

**Guerrilla Tactics School**

 

Adam checked his watch impatiently, glass-blue eyes darting from his wrist to the rest of the assembled personnel. Murphy polished off the last few hits of an e-cigar (Cubans weren't allowed on the ship, didn't want to stink rooms up. That rule had pissed him off.), while Remi simply stared at the door, superiority oozing from his every pore. Adam knew he'd twisted Central's arm on this issue, with the help of Tygan and Shen (at least those two meant well by it). Wolf Mother stood off to the side, disinterested, while Dean just fooled around with some equipment while they waited. Zeke, meanwhile, stood beside Central, naught but tapping his foot.

Eventually, the kids filed in, obviously surprised to see all of these people waiting for them. Ren, in particular, lased in on Zeke, who nodded at him with a knowing smirk that did nothing to set Adam at ease. Pyrrha's eyes cut at Adam, but he paid it no mind.

"Thank you four for coming," Bradford began, turning to look at Stark, who stopped goofing off and walked up beside Zeke, adjusting his glasses and sweeping back his hair for good measure. Turning back to the kids, he continued. "We've been doing some deliberation, and everyone's said their peace quite a few times. We don't have a method to get you home but believe me, it's become our second most priority. We'll clue you in on the first after you answer a question. That aside, we've got something we need from you. We're giving you shelter, food, and protection from ADVENT, but this last operation showed us that you four are possibly the most dangerous human beings on this planet... if you're entirely human. We'd have lost two, probably more operators on that mission if you hadn't been there. Quite simply... we need your help. But we can't ask you to stay here. We can, however, ask this much, and you can refuse without any consequences. We need your help."

Adam stepped forward, picking up where Bradford left off, motioning for Stark to pull up the holoprojector in the GTS and pull down the back screen. The comms officer quickly did both, with a diagram popping up full of shit that Adam had only bothered to read for the purposes of his part in this speech. He'd insisted on participating, as a sort of conciliatory gesture.

"The Ayys are tough. Far tougher than we are. Better technology, far greater numbers, more public support, more financial backing, even on the physical front, they've got us mostly beat. As the major resistance faction on Earth, we need every equalizer we can get. Quite simply, you four are super-soldiers by our standards. Your technology is decades ahead of our own. Your powers are on par with that of our strongest psionic operator." He motioned to Zeke, who nodded specifically at Pyrrha.

The redhead was starting to look uncomfortable. Adam didn't much care. Okay, maybe he did a little bit, but it was necessary. "We need to study your technology. Looking at Jaune's shield already has given us an invaluable personal-defense tool that'll be hitting production tomorrow morning. We could do even more with your weapon, Pyrrha, or with blood samples to see if... well... what the physiological differences between us and you exactly are. But most importantly, we need you in the field. You saved lives today. You can save so many more."

"Simple fact is, we're fucked, kids," Ezekiel chimed in. "The X-Rays control every single city center,” the projection shifted to show various images of red and black banners hanging from a range of internationally recognized landmarks, Big Ben to the Seattle Space Needle. “Every major metropolitan area,” another group of pictures, this time enforcers with angular white or red armor marching down what should have been gridlocked city streets. “Most rural areas too,” a small town hospital with odd tube structures spliced into its structure. “Hell, for all we know, they could have eyes on us right now. We are at risk every second of every day, and having to do things far beyond the pale of morality for the sake of surviving to see tomorrow, and making sure the rest of our people do. These aliens want the extermination of the human race. They may play nice on paper, but in practice, it's industrialized genocide,” the images became a scrolling list of faces and names, each one marked with a large red ‘MISSING’ on bold letters. “People disappear every day, there's beatdowns and executions in broad daylight, and every day, it gets worse. We wouldn't be asking you to do this if there was any other way."

Tygan spoke up next. "You are well within your rights to say no to us. We understand this is an important decision to make, especially considering that you're likely more focused on returning home. But unlike Central Officer Bradford and Captain Jones, I will be frank- the survival of our race depends on XCOM's success, and right now, our success depends on keeping ahead in the arms race. We have something that ADVENT doesn't have."

"You," Murphy spoke up. "You are officially the four most important people on Earth. Grats. And now you're being asked to join a paramilitary rebellion. It's a hard choice. I'd respect the hell out of you whether you turned it down or signed on."

Now all four members of the group looked uncomfortable. Zeke started looking intently at Jaune, probably was gonna put the psi moves on him. Adam sternly rebuked him, if silently. This needed to be a decision they made themselves, without any outside interference.

"No pressure," Remi 'helpfully' contributed, smirking. "Actually, a lot of pressure-"

"Sergeant Duvalier."

"Alright, Central, alright."

Jaune looked at Pyrrha, then at Ren, then at Nora. Only Nora seemed unperturbed by the subject matter anymore, but she seemed unnerved by the mood.

"If you need time to think," Bradford offered, "We can give you some time."

"Do you mind if we step outside?" Jaune asked.

"Not at all. Take all the time that you need."

Adam put his hand to his ear comm. "Keep the halls in front of the GTS clear, we're doing sensitive work. Authorized eyes and ears only."

 _'Copy, lockin' it down.'_ Security replied.

With that, Adam motioned for them to exit, and the four did just that.

* * *

"So?" Jaune asked. "What do you think?"

"Jaune, while I feel horrible for these people, I..." Pyrrha started, looking a bit... nervous. Jaune never really saw her like this. At all. It was kind of worrying. "... I don't know. This organization's members seem to run the gamut from reasonable to semi-deranged, and I really, REALLY don't find the phrase 'things far beyond the pale of morality' to be very palatable."

"Yeah, that sounds kind of like, uh... you know, terrorism, and stuff," Nora agreed. "But, they also said that, like, people are dying. Lots of people. Not _our people_ , people, I know, but..."

"Can we say no and sleep at night knowing that we could have saved lives? I believe that's the question. Still, I share Pyrrha's concerns. Some members of this organization seem…” Ren hesitated for a moment before continuing.”... less moral... than others. The feeling of this place is... conflicted. There are genuinely good people and others that are troubled to their very core. While some of this is just the nature of the world they live in... I'm not certain."

Jaune sighed. "Like they said, it's a temporary arrangement. Just until we find a way home. And maybe our technology can help them win! We can save lives AND go home."

"What about going into the field?"

"I wouldn't mind," Nora stated. "If it's to help people."

"We're going to be killing sentient beings, Nora," Pyrrha protested suddenly, sounding quite distressed. Ren immediately reached his hand out to his teammate, attempting to calm her. "I'm... sorry. It just feels wrong. Even if this regime they're speaking of is as evil as they say... we're not fighting Grimm."

"No, we're not. I don't... like the idea of killing things either. But a lot of people are going to die either way. I'm... not sure either, actually," Jaune admitted.

Ren nodded. "I would like time to deliberate on this myself, but I worry that every day we spend thinking will stretch our benefactor's patience."

"They said they'd respect our choice."

"Do you really think they'll appreciate a 'no' if their survival is at stake?" Ren asked. "If you were in their shoes, would you take no for an answer?"

Jaune stopped and tried to think. He didn't want to have to make a decision like this right now. Really, he wanted to go home. Kinda wished his Scroll had reception, Ozpin or Oobleck or heck, maybe even Port would probably have some good advice right now.

Still... saving lives sounded like too good of a thing to not do. Besides, they said it'd be their second priority. Surely that meant they'd put some real effort into it...

"Do you guys trust me?" Jaune asked, summoning up what courage he could gather and looking back at the door.

There was silence for a good ten or fifteen seconds. Jaune could tell that this was hard for everyone else, too, but... he had to give them some kind of answer.

Pyrrha answered first, stepping up next to Jaune and nodding.

"I trust you."

Nora grinned and stuck out a thumbs up. "Yeah, me too!"

Ren looked at his teammates, then at Jaune, and nodded. "Make the call."

* * *

Adam felt nervous.

This happened often, but right now, he felt very nervous. He could feel a single bead of sweat on his temple. He could see everyone moving out of the corners of his eyes. Murphy looked a bit downcast, while Central looked conflicted. Remi looked impatient, and above all, pissed, while Stark looked as unnerved as he did. Shen and Tygan simply made uncertain glances at one another, and Wolf Mother brooded...

Until the door opened, and the kids came back in. They looked pretty certain about whatever they were about to do.

"We'll do whatever we can to help you, under the condition that we get home as soon as possible. If you need more from us, we'll go home and get you help," Jaune stated. "But until then, we'll stick with you. Whatever you need."

Murphy let out an obviously long-held breath, while Remi's frown dissipated, and Stark made a little fist pump. Ezekiel outright grinned and nodded at the kids. Adam didn't know what to do, really, so he just did what came to mind first. He stepped forward, and stuck out his hand, much to the kids' surprise. Jaune, in particular, looked like Adam had just offered him a herring.

"I didn't stick my hand out for you to gawk at it, lad."

Jaune tentatively took the hand, and Adam gave it a firm shake.

"Thank you. We've got your six out there."

Jaune smiled a bit nervously, but he seemed relieved that Adam wasn't about to threaten or kick him, or something. Good. _Baby steps, Jones, baby steps._

"Well then, I'll give you the quick run down," Central spoke up, visibly loosening up, though his face was still stern as he looked at Stark. "Dean, show 'em."

"Got it, Central."

The screen changed to a bunch of images of an invaded Earth, plus a few Post-Unification stills as Central began his little speech. He hadn't rehearsed this one over a bottle of whiskey, so Adam was somewhat curious to see how this one went.

"You four don't know it,” Bradford began, “ but you stepped out of one fire into another. Instead of fighting the monsters and criminals that you face on Remnant, with the support of your Kingdom's governments, proper education, and professional-grade equipment, the Resistance is fighting the oppressive, invading alien regime with hand me downs from thirty-five to fifty years ago, using guerrilla warfare tactics and ingenuity to survive day-by-day. We're hunted every second of every minute of every hour of every day, we have few allies, fewer friends, and even fewer comrades. We have precious little resources, almost no reserve, and no Option B. We are at the precipice of destruction, and every day, ADVENT makes progress on a new initiative that we only know as 'The Avatar Project'. Data is scarce, but it's highly likely that this will be the final linchpin in their plan to assume complete dominance of Earth. Our world isn't under siege. It's been conquered. And we're trying to take it back."

Bradford turned towards the kids and pointed back at the screen. "This is the world we've lived in for the past 30 years. Subjugated by a force that sees us like cattle at best, slave labor at worst. And the whole world just silently accepts that this is the way it is and waits to see the end of days. Not us. We're going to fight. We're gonna lose a lot- we already have. Battles, people, homes. We've taken a beating on every front, and now, with the Commander back in action, we have possibly our only shot at saving what's left of Earth."

The door behind the kids opened, and Commander Cheng stepped through the door, spooking the kids a bit with her approach. She must have been monitoring them over cams.

"Commander, wasn't expecting you, but you're welcome. You mind doing the honors?" Central asked.

Grace just smiled, looking over the four kids. "Jaune Arc, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, and Lie Ren, welcome to the XCOM Initiative."


	15. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team JNPR are now officially members of XCOM, Team RWBY continues their desperate search, and new enemies-and allies- rear their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the homie mellowyelloww for giving me a beta on this. I am truly blessed.

Welcome to XCOM.

Ezekiel wasn't sure how the kids were going to take that one. XCOM was a lot different back when he first joined up. It was colder. More professional. They’d had the world’s backing, and the finances to show it. The best equipment, the brightest minds, and the strongest soldiers. Now XCOM was a ragtag bunch: some of them soldiers, some survivors, and some just plain sons of bitches that had no business claiming to be 'heroes'.

Sometimes Ezekiel felt as if he fit in all three of those categories. He was a freak, kinda like the kids. Not quite human. Not quite alien. He didn't feel like either, most of the time. He looked at the world, and what had become of it, with a sort of detachment. He'd left civilization to work with Vahlen a long time ago.

Adam probably needed him. So did Bradford, most likely. Everyone probably needed his help. But he wasn't in any position to help anyone. Ezekiel was afraid. When the world fell to pieces, he felt small. So he did what small things do. Hide in the rubble, in the cracks of the earth, in the little holes in the sand, and hope. Pray. Wish against all reality that the world would go back to normal without him. The days were long in those caves with Vahlen, and he often found himself wondering about his old comrades. But he never heard from any of them. He thought they were dead, and it was probably the same for them.

Remnant was... strange. He'd been there for what only felt like a few weeks, but as it turns out, according to what records they'd scrounged up, he'd been gone for 3 and a half months. Same with Vahlen, if she was still alive. He doubted it. He barely survived Remnant. One of those Grimm things came at him maybe an hour after he showed up. If he didn't have his psionic powers, he'd be dead. But at the same time, it felt nice. To be away from the aliens. Away from the world. To be a stranger in an unfamiliar land.

He wondered how the kids felt about it. He knew a little bit about Remnant from living there. Not much, but some. And he'd done some research. He knew life was rough there, especially for people like them. But Earth... Earth was different. You had friends on Remnant. Society as a whole wasn't your enemy. You had the proper training, the proper equipment, the proper backup.

It wasn't like that on Earth. Not anymore.

Seeing Adam again hurt him. Ezekiel would never tell a soul that, but it did. Adam used to be a proud man. Used to think that he was hot shit, didn't know that he only got as far as he did because of nepotism. He used to be able to back it up, too, especially when he got those genetic enhancements. Doctor Vahlen and Doctor Kirilov did a miracle on him. And yet now Adam seemed to be looking at shadows. His eyes never stayed in one place, he had rings round his eyes that had to have been there for years, and every time he spoke it sounded like he was inches away from a breakdown. The suave chipper Welshman had been gone for a long time, and Ezekiel didn't like the thing that replaced him.

Nobody did, it seemed. Not after what had happened while he was gone. He’d heard about it from Bradford.

Bradford was always a drinking man, but he'd become an alcoholic. Raymond had really died, and his daughter was being forced into going on field ops because they didn't have the proper minds and men for field tech, codebreaking, the like. They had to rely on defectors and disbarred doctors for research and medical care.

Welcome to XCOM, Team JNPR. Welcome, Ezekiel Collins, to what's left of it.

The kids didn't seem at all thrilled about the welcome. Even Nora, who seemed about as chipper as you could find 'em, looked a bit ill at ease. Commander Cheng's timely entrance seemed more to unnerve them than make them feel welcome. That always worked better in movies, where it just smash cut into someone either being given the grand tour, or gearing up for their first mission. They never really focused on the awkward in-betweens.

"...thanks," Ren replied rather eloquently, obviously having nothing more polite or really, anything else, to say.

"Well, now what?" Remi asked impatiently, cutting down the awkward silence before it could take hold.

"We start looking for a way to get them home," the Commander answered. "We've got nothing else to do right now -- we can't move on those coordinates the Spokesman gave us. We'll have to wait until we get the necessary materials together before we head out west."

"The mag weapons?" Adam asked.

"Yup. Tygan's finishing up the concepts on the rest of the weapon line."

"I'll have the schematics on your desk by tomorrow morning, Shen," Tygan said. Lily smirked, and nodded her assent.

"Knew you were good for something, Tygan," she groused, with a lack of her usual animosity toward Tygan behind it.

"Don't thank me, thank my team."

"Speaking of teams," the Commander interrupted. "You four? You're dismissed." The Commander motioned for the kids to make their exit. "You were a huge help today, and we can't thank you enough for that. You earned some time off. Use it well."

The kids left, leaving the Commander with her team leads and Ezekiel, who still wasn't exactly sure why he'd been asked to come up here, although, judging by the fact that the Commander immediately looked at him, he had a feeling she would answer his questions soon enough.

"Colonel Collins." The Commander folded her arms behind her back, and let out a short sigh. A little bit of psionic prodding revealed she'd been thinking about this for most of the walk to the GTS, among other things. Really intrusive process, really, very traumatic if the subject resisted, but evidently Grace trusted him enough to leave her mental blocks down around him. Was that a mistake? Maybe. " I hate to keep you so busy while you're still finding your feet, but I need you to keep an eye on those kids. You officially know more about Remnant than everyone else on this boat combined. Until we get them a way home, I need you to keep them safe. If the Avenger goes down again, it's your responsibility to protect them. You're the strongest operator I've got, at least equivalent to a whole four-man team. If I can't get a team on them, I'm gonna need you."

"Alright, alright. Fine. They're under my wing until they get on home." Ezekiel didn't much like the responsibility of four lives on his shoulders, but the way Grace framed it left little room for negotiation.

"In the meantime, I've got something for the rest of ya. Stark, I sent you a file earlier -- open it."

Dean complied, pulling up a new image on the backscreen. It was the globe, but with quite a few red hotspots, one of which was the location Menace Team was headed to for their next sortie.

"With the way the war is going, we're losing. Hard. We lost half of our original manpower before Operation Gatecrasher, and we can't afford to sit back and wait for volunteers. Besides the Reapers and the Skirmishers, there are Resistance factions all over the globe that we need to contact. Stark, enhance 'em as I go."

"Yes ma'am," the comms officer dutifully replied.

"Around the U.S., there are quite a few. Casey Snow runs the Militia down in what's left of the bayous." A face appeared on the screen near the southeastern US, of a man in obviously military clothing. "They have weapons and manpower that we desperately need, and they're close enough to home for us to make contact. Their guys are specialists in holding actions and strong-arming. They could be invaluable security for our home bases and outposts. Out in Europe, we've got reports of psionic warriors forming some kind of... Temple... in the Albanian countryside, away from prying eyes. You've all seen what Psi units are capable of. A whole army of them is an invaluable ally. Finally, we've got the Think Tank. The Think Tank's always moving, but their latest base is somewhere in Southeast Asia, not too far from our current location. These guys are some of the brightest minds outside of ADVENT's influence. That sort of brain power is invaluable. I've got people making moves to start contacting all three, but it may be a while. Keep your ears to the ground. If you make contact with any reps from any of these three groups..." The Commander smirked a little bit, turning her attention pointedly to Adam. "...it wouldn't kill to be kind."

Remi chuckled, drawing an aside glance from Grace that shut him right up. She wasn't smirking anymore.

"Sergeant Duvalier. You've been sloppy lately. I'm putting you and the rest of Assassin on standby. Maybe a field op will straighten you out."

Remi wasn't smiling anymore either, instead biting his lip far enough that his lip ring scraped his teeth. He just grunted his assent. Grace then turned her attention to Murphy, who looked back at her expectantly. He wasn't a man to waste time.

"You're dismissed as well, Captain MacAuley. Tell Corporal Hall to run by me later. I want to check on him."

"Yes, ma'am."

With that, Murphy left, as did Wolf Mother, who didn't really like anyone in the room besides Grace, and probably saw no reason to stick around. Now, it was just Stark, Shen, Tygan, himself, and Adam. Oh, and Bradford.

"Tygan, Shen, same to you. Get cracking, I want a status report by this time tomorrow."

Well, Stark, himself, and Adam, now. Shen and Tygan immediately hurried off to busy themselves, and now, all attention turned to Adam. He was obviously nervous, coiling up and taking the slightest step back. Grace didn't seem to notice it.

"You ready, Sergeant Jones? You're about to be on the clock."

"Yes, ma'am. Sensitive op, but we're good to go."

"Excellent. Look forward to hearing the good news. You're free to go."

Adam proceeded to slink past Grace with an undue urgency. An attempt at prodding his mind revealed little. Just nerves. Lots and lots of nerves.

"Commander," Ezekiel began, trying his best to broach this subject gently, for his sake, and that of his old friend. "Is Adam in command of Menace?"

"Yes he is, Zeke. Why?"

"... Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"He's one of our most experienced field operators, has worked with Bradford and I for going on two decades now, collectively, and he's a damn fine soldier. How could I not have him in command?"

"So that's how you're explaining it to yourself? The mood swings? The violent outbursts? "

Grace recoiled, but her initial shock gave way to anger. He'd struck a nerve. "I really don't appreciate you trying to get into my head, Colonel. The aliens had their turn, and I'd much rather have my brain be private to _me_ from now on."

Ezekiel stepped back, holding his hands up. "I didn't do nothin' to your brain, ma'am. I'm just stating what I see and hear. I'm worried about him, too. The world changed him."

"The _world_ changed without _you_ in it, Colonel Collins. You're dismissed."

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, on Remnant**

**Beacon Academy**

 

While no one was happy about the outcome of their 'search', no one was less happy than Ruby Rose. It was sort of unsettling for Blake, to see Team RWBY's usual beacon of sunshine and happiness completely flagged like she was. She wasn't accepting any encouragement, either.

"Uncle Qrow would have told us if he’d seen something else, Ruby." Yang attempted to reassure her sister. "He's too drunk to keep secrets!"

"But there's nothing to work with, Yang! 'Giant, icy snake-man jumps through portal' doesn't bring us any closer to where our friends are." Blake could imagine that, were it anyone else, Ruby would be aggressively protesting, but right now, she just sounded defeated, lying on her bed spread eagle and staring at the ceiling.

"Well, think about it this way, Ruby. Have you ever seen any icy snake-men before?" Blake asked, attempting to be somewhat helpful in this situation. "Something that odd can't be a coincidence."

"It very well could be. Just because the two events CAN be connected doesn't mean they ARE connected," Weiss contributed from behind her textbook, drawing a glare from Yang.

"Not. Helping."

"What?" Weiss protested, throwing her hands up. "I'm telling the truth!"

"The truth is not helpful right now!" Yang shouted, slamming her fists into her hips.

"She's right. It's probably just a really weird coincidence," Ruby agreed, crestfallen.

"Ugh. I'm sure Jauney and the gang are alright! We just gotta keep looking. The sooner we find them, the sooner we can take them to pound town for making us worry!"

"Not my exact choice of words, but Yang's got the right idea," Blake agreed. "We can't give up now. There has to be something we're missing here. Qrow said it created a portal, right? Where did that portal lead?"

"I dunno. He didn't go in, and couldn't see."

Blake's ears flattened as she folded her arms and attempted to think of something. That was approximately the location where Team JNPR was last spotted, and if that thing was hanging out there and using portals to escape trouble, perhaps it had attempted to evade them, only to be pursued.

"It might not just be a coincidence, Weiss. Think about it. The snake-man thing only called on a portal when Qrow injured it, and when he saw it, it was already injured. Maybe Team JNPR ran into it and went into a portal after it when it attempted to escape?"

"Then how did it get back without them?"

"They might have lost track of it." Blake had another idea on what could have happened to their friends, but she wasn't about to say it. Stay positive.

"So what do we do, then?" Weiss asked.

"We wait for signs of it again. Check that area of the forest every day. When we see it, chase it into one of its portals, and find our friends," Ruby suggested. "It'll be hard, but we can probably pull it off."

"Actually, what if we got cameras out there? Just put 'em up at places where we found the blood trail and stuff. Animals, like, frequent the same areas, if I remember my biology right!" Yang contributed, seeming rather proud that she'd remembered something that she'd been forced to sit down and learn in some classroom.

"Yes, but where would we get those cameras?" Weiss asked.

Blake raised an eyebrow at her. Ruby turned to look at her with her trademarked Puppy Ruby Eyes, while Yang clasped her hands together in a praying pose and started to lower herself to a knee.

"...one of these days, I won't have the money to fund all three of your larks."

"You're NOT saying no!" Yang helpfully noticed.

* * *

 

A trip to a sporting outfitter and a few thousand lien later, Team RWBY was ready to do some sleuthing. The sun was starting to reach its evening descent, washing the woods in an orange-reddish light as the team's resident ray of roses and sunshine darted from tree to tree, looking for a determined path to the snake-man's retreat. Weiss looked to Blake expectantly, probably expecting, as all racists do, that because she was a Faunus, she had a better sense of smell than everyone else. While Weiss had gotten a lot better on the prejudice front, some habits died hard.

"No, I can't smell the blood," Blake half-groaned.

"Ah, I see. You can see it, though, right?"

"I'm not blind. It also helpfully killed all the grass in its path, so... that makes it easier."

"Alrighty! Cam's up!" shouted RWBY’s resident blonde. Yang flashed a peace sign at the camera she just planted on the upper trunk of a tree, looking at it with a bit of consternation after a few seconds. "How do you know if it took a picture?"

"These are live security cameras. I set them to capture video, not photos," Weiss explained. "We'll be able to check them from our Scrolls at any time."

"Rad! That way we can just bolt out here when we see it!"

"Exactly. There's also no delay between the feed and the receiving device, so it's entirely in real time. Observe." Weiss took out her scroll, and held it out facing the approaching Yang, who proceeded to watch the camera picking up Ruby's mad dash in the treeline, happening at that exact moment. There really was no lag or feedback.

"Niiiiiiice. How many you got?"

Weiss checked the inside of the large satchel she brought with her, thumbing through it idly and mouthing the numbers to herself. "Seven. We should spread them out, cover as much ground as possible, stopping at the place where Qrow said it exited the portal. The blood trail should be the freshest there."

"Right, sounds good to me. Hand me a few, I'll set some more up!"

"I'll take a few as well," Blake offered.

Yang and Blake grabbed three each, while Ruby came back at the sound of conversation and grabbed a couple for herself. With Weiss carrying the rest, they went their separate ways, and started setting up. Blake found a nice, open clearing with a few flowers nearby. She doubted the monster was a nature-lover, but the clearing made sense as a basking spot, if he was a snake, so she put a camera on a tree next to the bush, angling it on a sufficiently thick, upward-pointing branch.  The next one was a bit more well-covered, on a tree just outside of the monster's path, on the lower part of the trunk. She'd put the next one where Qrow stated he lost its trail, in case it decided to retrace it steps, or reemerged there.

The walk to the clearing was uneventful, but the clearing itself had an interesting new development. Namely, someone had beaten Blake to it. A man, by the look of it. Human, with ragged, tattered camouflage clothing, a helmet of some sort, a gas mask, and a large shotgun on his back, bedecked with cobbled-together Dust canisters and wires. A pistol on his lower back had received the same treatment, and he had a knife on his hip. He seemed to be examining the dried up blood on the dead grass. Was he following the same creature she was?

"Excuse me, sir?" she spoke up, slowly approaching the individual. Their head snapped to face Blake, and their hands went to their back, getting ready to draw that shotgun, but stopped short when Blake raised her hands. She moved them away from her hips- and by extension, Gambol Shroud- in the hopes that it would somehow de-escalate the situation.

"I've been tracking the creature that left that blood. I was going to set up a camera nearby."

"This is a restricted area," the man stated, his voice distorted by his mask. "Leave."

"... sir, Emerald Forest is considered public property. I believe-"

"Alright, civvie, I'm gonna say it again. Restricted area. Leave." Turning off to the side, he looked at some faraway thing. “Hey, Powell, we got a live one, help me out.”

Blake's eyes narrowed, and her ears flattened back in anticipation. Something was up here- she wasn't sure what this stranger's game was, but he was awfully defensive. And apparently talking to people who weren’t there.

"Who are you?"

"My name is not important, civvie, now get the fuck out of here. Final warning!"

With that, the man began to draw his shotgun off his back, and Blake took a step back, her hands dropping to her weapons.

"HANDS OFF THE WEAPONS!" the man shouted, swinging his shotgun and cocking the action, smoke belching from the bottom of the weapon as he did so. "ON THE GROUND!"

Blake's eyes widened as she pulled her weapons and attempted to shoot the gun out of his hands, only to have Gambol Shroud's main section shot out of her hands by a blast of smoke and shot. The man pumped the action of his shotgun and aimed for her head, forcing her to dodge out of the way lest she be blown out of the clearing. The blast threw flaming hot shrapnel mere inches away from her side.

"SMOKE OUT!" the man shouted, pulling a canister off his belt and pulling the pin before dropping it, firing another shot at Blake as smoke started to waft into the air from the canister. Some sort of smoke grenade, though it was acting rather slowly, compared to the examples Blake had seen in her time with the White Fang. The man was taking himself out of the advantage, though... without the smoke, he'd be able to see her movements. With all this smoke in the way…

Blake moved into the smoke, creating shadows of herself at short intervals to provide decoys, all while searching for-

Her opponent. The man had found one of the decoys and fired, watching it dissipate into puffs of smoke.

"CAPTAIN HAMILTON! POWELL! THEY'RE USING DECOYS! FAN OUT, FIND THE REAL TARGET!" the man shouted, turning his attention to another decoy and firing off another shot, this one glowing red hot- fire dust. That must be what the canisters were for. Dust injection. Crude, but still dangerous.

 _Who is this guy talking to? Is he military? Atlesian? Why is he here, using such damaged tech?_ _  
_

Blake went in for the takedown, pouncing on his lack of attentiveness to his left flank, but caught the buttstock of the man's shotgun for her trouble. He was fast. Not Ruby fast, but scarily fast.

"GOT YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!" he shouted, planting his boot firmly against Blake's neck and attempting to line up a shot on her head, but Blake managed to trip him up, using the sheath of Gambol Shroud to give him a resounding smack to the leg that...

Didn't do anything to his Aura?

The man doubled over onto a knee, crying out in a combination of rage and pain, and Blake realized that the man didn't have an Aura.

"Sir, I'm not your enemy, please stop resisting and let me help you-"

 **"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!"** **  
**

The man suddenly lunged at Blake, grabbing her around the neck with rakish hands and slamming her headfirst into the dirt, following up with a vicious headbutt that rocked her even through her Aura, and made a visible crack in the filter of his gas mask. It was hard for her to breathe in this thick smoke. Without that mask, he wouldn't be able to see or breathe either…

Grabbing her weapon, she slammed it as hard as she could into the side of the man's head, forcing him to loosen his grip ever so slightly to allow her to turn her head, seeking the other half of Gambol Shroud. The blade was in the dirt maybe a foot and a half away, just out of reach. Coiling her legs, she kicked out at the man's stomach, pushing him off her just enough to roll away for her blade, grabbing a firm hold of it just as the man gained his footing and started shouting again.

"You are one SLIPPERY MOTHERFUCKER, YOU KNOW THAT? FUCKING HAJJI BASTARD!"

 _What the heck is a Hajji?_ _  
_

Rising to a knee, Blake pointed her pistol at the man's head. He was back on his feet, drawing his pistol and knife simultaneously. "Please, stop! I don't want to hurt you!"

"LAWRENCE, TAKE THE DAMN SHOT!"  
  
"There's no one else here but us!"

"... YOU KILLED THEM, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

... that did not go as she intended it. Standing at full height, she crossed her weapons in front of her as the strange man turned to face her, throwing off his helmet to reveal a tightly-compressed mane of curly black hair. Behind the mask, she could see something now, just barely. Icy blue eyes, wide open and bloodshot.

That look was familiar. It chilled her to the bone, and took her to a place she didn't want to be in the middle of a fight. _Focus, Blake. This man WILL kill you if he can._ _  
_

She wouldn't kill him. She'd hurt enough people. Maybe she could help this one, but it would require surgical precision.

_Here's hoping._

The man roared in agony and anger at once, charging Blake with the intent of leveraging his size against her on the ground once more. Blake's shadow stood in front of him, swords at the ready, while the real Blake stood off in the smoke, waiting to take his mask until it was too late for him to react. When he dove in, Blake moved, leaping forward and striking out with her sword at the mask, hopefully just shallow enough a cut to take the mask, and nothing else. She felt enough give to tell that the mask was opened up, but as for the rest, she couldn't say.

Sliding to a halt, she noted the smoke starting to dissipate as the man clutched at his split mask, blood starting to run between his fingers. She'd cut deeper than she hoped, but he wouldn't die. Probably.

"Oh, you MOTHERFU-" the man started, before being interrupted by a flurry of red slamming into him at max speed. Or rather, his outstretched arm, with a rather loud _snap_. He'd seen Ruby coming, somehow. "GOTCH- **_AAAAGH_** _!_ "

The man dropped his pistol, grabbing at the bone jutting out from his elbow. Without Aura, stopping something moving as fast as Ruby was bound to cause severe injuries. Now that she had a good look at him, Blake was both horrified and appalled at the pitiful state the man was in. He had a thick, raggedy beard that looked to be encrusted with blood, and greying at the ends. His hair was equally ratty, and his eyes were even more red and damaged than they looked initially. He had huge, crudely-stitched gashes in his face that weren't healing properly, including one right by his left eye that was severely infected. How long had this poor soul been in these woods?

Ruby ground to a halt a few feet away from them, palming her cheek while turning her attention to Blake. "BLAKE! Are you okay!?"

"I GOT THIS BASTARD!" Yang shouted from behind Blake, Ember Celica audibly cocking as she came closer. If this man got hit with one of Yang's punches, the broken arm would cease to be a problem, because he'd have a hole in him the size of a bowling ball.

"Yang, wait!" Blake demanded, stepping into her path as she turned to face her, blocking the way to the disheveled stranger, who seemed more focused on his injuries than Blake's proximity to him. Yang was in full 'kill mode', her eyes burning red and her hair glowing hot as she stormed forward, intent on relieving Blake's unwilling protectorate of his head. "This man's obviously been lost for ages! He doesn't have any Aura! He needs medical attention!"

"He's about to need a morgue if he doesn't give it up right now!"

"Do it then!" the man suddenly shouted from behind Blake, drawing all three girls' attention. He was looking at Blake now, blood streaming from a cut across his face just below his right eye, stretching into his hairline. He appeared to be on the verge of tears, grasping at the bloody, exposed tissue that adorned the fracture in his arm. "Fucking kill me! I've been out in these fucking woods for so god damn long! Everything else is fucking trying to kill me! The fucking dogs! The fucking birds! The fucking bears! The fucking two-legged FREAKS! I can’t find my squad, I can’t find any food, I can’t even find the son of a bitch I dragged here with me! Just put an end to this shit already! KILL ME! KILL ME!"

Yang's full bore march didn't stop until she finally could see around Blake at the full extent of the raving man, but when she did, she looked appalled. She lowered her fists ever so slightly as she took in the scene. "Normally, I'd make a joke about that, but, uh..." she muttered, her voice noticeably softening as her eyes returned to their normal lilac. "Shit."

"Sir. Please. I'm not going to hurt you anymore, if you just drop the knife and relax." Blake tentatively sheathed her own weapon and placed it on her hip, attempting to show her own willingness to speak with him. The man's grip on the knife tightened with every step she took, and he raised it in an effort to protect his face. For a man who wanted to die, he seemed terrified of getting hit.

"Blake, that's not a good idea!" Weiss stated from behind her, once again telling Blake something she already knew. She must have ran up behind her and Yang in the meantime. Blake ignored her, slowly approaching the injured man. He didn't react to her approach at all, not even dropping his weapon. Indeed, his eyes had shifted to his discarded shotgun, off a few feet away. Even if he dove for it, Blake could easily stop him with one thrust or pull of the trigger. She really, really didn't want it to come to that.

"Don't try it. Please," she pleaded. "I just want to help."

The man's gaze slowly turned from the gun, up to Blake. He didn't look angry anymore. He looked tired. No, _exhausted_ . Like he'd just had all the wind taken out of him, not just physically, but emotionally. Almost like a husk.

"...okay. Okay."

The knife fell harmlessly out of his hand to the ground as he knelt down, clutching his arm with a grunt of pain. Blake immediately knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you know how much is broken?" She remembered when she broke her wrist as a child, and her mother treated her about the same way. Children understood kindness better than anger. Maybe that applied to... crazy people... too.

"Joint. Forearm. Maybe my wrist. Dunno. Can't feel my hand."

"We'll get you help. What's your name?"

"Frost."

"Alright, Mr. Frost. If you're willing to come with me, I know someone who can help you. You can tell us, and him, anything you want, and we can help you find your way home."

"...okay. Who?"

"You'll see. I just need you to trust me. Give me your hand." Blake realized her error, and quickly corrected herself. "Your good hand."

Frost hesitated for a while, but eventually complied, reaching over to Blake with his good arm. She took him by the wrist, and slowly stood up, gently pulling him to do the same. He was actually not that much taller than her, by her reckoning. He'd looked a lot more imposing with the mask. Frost looked down at her with those icy blue eyes, and Blake couldn't help but recoil when she noticed the scar over his left eye. It wasn't the same one, but-

Evidently, Frost noticed.

"Did I hurt anyone?" he asked.

"I'm fine!" Ruby contributed, as chipper as someone who'd just taken a clothesline to the mouth while traveling at approximately 90 miles an hour could be. "Mostl-l _oohh crap..._ " Her eyes drifted to Frost's condition, and she started to blanche. Considering that Ruby was already pretty pale, getting paler was an even bigger achievement, but, a shattered arm seemed to do it for her.

"No. I'm okay. Let's worry about you," Blake assured him.

* * *

 

"You told Miss Belladonna your name is Frost?" Ozpin asked, looking rather comfortable in the infirmary chair. Blake wasn't sure how he could do that, those things were hard as a rock. The rest of Team RWBY hadn't been asked to come, but she specifically had been TOLD to. Apparently Ozpin wanted a clear character witness.

"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Eric Frost, Delta Force, Green Element," he replied, still staring at the ceiling, like he had been ever since they put him in the infirmary bed. He only ever stopped to look at Blake, when she spoke to him. He seemed very grateful to her for talking him down, which made her feel... better, about the whole thing. It was nice, in spite of how they met. "Where am I, sir?"

"You were in the Emerald Forest, but now, you're at Beacon Academy, in the infirmary wing."

"Beacon Academy?"

"It's the premier Huntsman training school in Vale."

The confusion was evident on Eric's face. He was starting to seem a bit distressed, twitching just a bit."I dunno where that... this is, sir." His voice sounded equally shaky.

"I see. Where are you from, Lieutenant Frost?"

"Why?" Eric was visibly upset now, balling his good fist and looking around for something. Blake gripped the side of her own chair, trying to ignore the instinct to lunge over and pin him to the bed. The color of his eyes wasn't enough to judge him off of. It wasn't right, but at the same time... the crazed look in his eyes, eyes that were somehow so familiar to her despite being on a total stranger... she still hadn't gotten over it.

"Lieutenant Frost, I believe it would help you if you told me where you are from."

"... Los Angeles."

"I don't know where that is, Lieutenant. I've never heard of Los Angeles."

"It's a shitty place."

"That's very unfortunate to hear. I can't imagine you liked the Emerald Forest any better."

Eric chuckled a bit, visibly easing up as he turned to get a look at Ozpin. "No, sir. At least things weren't trying to kill me in LA."

"You were attacked by Grimm?"

"Is that what they're called? Yeah. Grimm. They've been chasing me for... god. I dunno. I used to go into this town, but eventually, the cops threw me out. I don't have any money this place accepts, so... had to... It's been... fuck..."

"Miss Belladonna was in the Emerald Forest following the trail of a creature that recently evaded us using some kind of portal. Would you know something about that?"

"Yeah. That's how I got here, a portal. The aliens use 'em for travel."

Blake's ears perked up, and her eyes widened, Even her superior hearing had a bit of trouble with that one. "Did you just say-"

"Yeah. Hard to believe, I know. Is this still... Earth?"

"No, Lieutenant Frost. This is Remnant," Ozpin explained, still the picture of patience. Blake was glad he'd been so quick to speak to the man, she figured the police wouldn't be very kind to a strange, scarred hermit with no history or identification. "Can you tell me what you were doing when you got here?"

"Okay." Eric took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and leaning back into his pillow. With the state he was in, he could probably pass for a dead man if he just stayed quiet. "I was on a field operation with the rest of Green Element. Captain Hamilton was in command. We were supposed to extract an HVT from a secure location, but unidentified hostiles beat us to it. Rescued a DEVGRU strike team on the way. Went through the location, took heavy casualties, but eventually linked up with a unit carrying the HVT, called themselves 'XCOM'. We started to beat our way to the extract point, but some big, ugly... thing in huge, red armor went to kill my CO. I couldn't kill it with conventional ordinance, but I saw a... portal thing behind it. I charged, and shoved him in, but I fell through with him. We tussled for a while, but then this big... bear thing came. It grabbed the thing I tackled in and killed it in a few seconds. I just... ran. Ended up hiding in a cave for a couple of nights, but the thing came back in the morning. Somehow managed to kill it. I've been in the woods ever since."

"I see. Lieutenant, where were you when all this happened, before you stepped through that portal?"

"That's classified information."

"I don't think I can reach where you're talking about without a portal, and I certainly have no desire to hurt you or anyone else. Please. I need to know as much as possible if I can help you."

Eric hesitated, and eventually spat out what Blake could only assume was a compromise, judged by how clipped and hesitant he was to say it. "Blue Ridge Mountains. In Pennsylvania."

"I still don't have much of an idea of where that could be, but it gives me a place to start looking for my missing students."

"Missing students?" Eric's eyes shot open, and he turned his head to look at Ozpin with such alacrity that Blake almost felt secondhand whiplash.

"Yes. Four of my students went into those same woods a few days ago, and have not returned. They were last seen in the area that you and my students were searching, where we had also seen a snake-like creature capable of creating portals. I believe that we may have found the means to help each other."

"Okay. So... what. You're gonna try to find that thing, get a portal open, and go look for your students?" Eric asked, eyes and voice filled with hope.

"And bring you home."

"Thank you, sir. If I can help in any way... what's your name, sir?"

"I am Ozpin, the headmaster of this school. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance under pleasant circumstances. I can't say the same for my student."

"Sorry, miss."

"Just Blake," she corrected him, giving him an attempt at a reassuring smile.

"Blake. Okay. Like I said, Mr. Ozpin, if there's any way I can help once I'm healed up... I've got military experience. I won't slow you down."

"I'll have one of my staff come and check on you soon, Mr. Frost. We'll talk again later, once you're back to health, and we'll see about helping you find your way home, You can worry about helping us later." Ozpin explained, finally rising from his seat. "Thank you for cooperating with us. I understand that being so far from home is quite frightening. If you would like, I can see about getting you a razor and a trim."

"... yeah, a razor would be nice... But a bath would be nicer."

"There's showers in the athletics department. I'll have my assistant guide you to them later."

"Thank you, sir."

"It's no trouble at all, Lieutenant. Please, get some rest. You've been through a harrowing ordeal, I know you must be exhausted. Miss Belladonna, you're free to return to your dorm. Enjoy the rest of your time off."

Blake stood up herself, nodding at the headmaster. "Thank you."

"Oh, and do tell me if the cameras catch anything. I'm as curious as you are," he stated on his way out the door, as casually as one would note the weather. How did he-

You know what? Blake wasn't going to question it. The sky is blue, the moon is shattered, the grass is green, and Ozpin knows everything. Simple, easy to understand. Turning her attention back to Eric, she offered another semi-smile.

"I hope you get well soon."

"Me too," he replied, attempting to return the gesture. With the scars on his jaw, forehead, and cheek, it looked rather horrifying, but that wasn't any fault of his. Really, he should be glad he survived with just that. Now finished in the infirmary, Blake headed back to Team RWBY's dorm, the walk uneventful save for a few other students milling back towards their dorms for the impending lights-out. When she arrived, the rest of her team were busying themselves with something or another. Weiss was doing some more notes for JNPR's eventual return, this time copying down some Dust Mechanics lecture Professor Goodwitch had given out, while Yang and Ruby goofed around with some game on their Scrolls. Ruby was obviously winning, and although she was still a little bit pale, she looked better.

"Stupid pay-to-win bullshi-" Yang grumbled, before being interrupted by Blake shutting the door behind her, "-hey, Blake! How's the nutjob doing?"

"He's... better. Apparently he came through a portal similar to the one the creature was using. There is something on the other side of them."

Ruby perked up from behind her game, visibly beaming. "That means JNPR is wherever he used to be! Did he say?"

"Some place called... Pen Silveinya?"

"Never heard of it," Weiss spoke up from behind her book and paper. "Where is that?"

"'Earth.' That appears to be what's on the other side of those portals," Blake explained. "Perhaps it's some other planet."

"Imagine that!" Yang exclaimed, before putting on her most bombastic documentary-slash-movie trailer voice. "LIFE! BEYOND THE STARS!"

Weiss groaned and shook her head, before returning to her work. There was a short silence before Ruby spoke again, this time a bit more softly.

"... what happened? I started to come after you when I heard the gunshots and the yelling, but I ran into something and I heard a really loud snapping noise and kinda went flying a little ways..." Ruby asked. It was obvious she was trying not to think about what she saw, which Blake understood. Blood and viscera wasn't a fun thing to look at, even if you were like Blake and had to a few times. Ruby was lucky not to have to look at such things until now, but everyone's luck runs out eventually.

"I saw him in the clearing where your uncle told us the creature escaped to. I tried to talk to him, but he kept calling me a civilian and telling me to leave the area. He pulled out a shotgun and started attacking me, but... he didn't have any Aura. Once I got over the initial surprise, it was pretty one-sided. When you came in, he noticed you out the corner of his eyes and tried to stop you with his arm. You were moving too fast and snapped all the bones in his lower left arm."

"Oh my gosh, that's horrible! Is he gonna be alright?"

"He will be. He's actually lucky you hit him, Ruby. If he hadn't been so severely injured, I think he might have continued fighting until it went too far."

"Oh, um... okay! Good! Glad I could... help..." Ruby still looked a bit downcast. She was too good-natured to take any pride in hurting anyone, let alone someone who obviously wasn't in their right mind.

"If it makes you feel better, Ruby, he's not at all upset. He's resting in the infirmary, and seems to be doing a lot better."

"That's good! Yeah." Ruby gave Blake an obviously fake smile that didn't really show any sort of ease about the situation but hell, she'd play along.

"So, what's on the agenda for the rest of the evening, then?" Weiss asked. "This will probably take me another hour, myself."

"I dunno. I'm just gonna bum around," Yang replied. "Got nothing better to do."

"You could study for Port's test tomorrow."

"He'll probably go off on some long story about 'the biggest Boarbatusk you ever saw!' and completely forget we have a test," Yang countered with a smirk. Even if Port didn't, Blake had a feeling Yang would find a way to bring it up just to get him talking.

"Touche, but still, you should take some responsibility."

"Yes, _mother_. You want me to do the laundry and clean the dishes, too?"

"I mean, if that's you offering to do our laundry..."

"Nope! No it's not. Don't even start."

Well, at least her team was acting normally. Gods know that the rest of Remnant didn't seem to be, lately.

"I think I'll just do some light reading and turn in early," Blake said, heading over to the bookshelf and browsing through her selection again. She'd read everything in it at least once, but it was nice to revisit the well sometimes. "Hopefully we find leads soon."

* * *

**  
Back on Earth**

**A half-day later**

 

  
"Menace team is on their way back, Central Officer! We lost the Skirmisher!" Stark reported from his terminal at the head of the Avenger's bridge.

"God DAMMIT!" Bradford shouted, slamming his fists into the desk hard enough to knock his whiskey off it. "What the HELL was that thing?"

"No idea, sir! I've never seen anything like it!"

"If the ayys are comin' up with shit like tha', we're _fucked_ , Lex..." Joseph noted, and Alexios couldn't agree more. ADVENT, they could handle. Sectoids, they could handle. The Lost, they could 'handle', if there weren't to many of them. But that... that _thing_ they'd just seen... that was far beyond what they could stop.

"Theé mou, how are we supposed to stop something like that?" Alexios wondered aloud, watching the footage again. Whatever it was had dodged a shot from Lawrence without even having line of sight on him, appeared out of seemingly thin air to slash Declan across the face, and kicked Adam hard enough to send him flying into a parked car and _crumple the cab_. If Adam wasn't gene-modded, that would probably have killed him. Then it did the whole vanishing trick again at the extraction point, grabbing the Skirmisher rep and dragging him off into some sort of pillar of light.

"I want any cross-references we can get on that thing. I want SOMETHING I can work with, here, people, and I want it NOW!" Bradford ordered, before storming off to find the Commander.

Alexios turned his attention to his old friend, grabbing a firm hold of the still-stunned Scotsman's shoulder. "We need to inform the rest of the team. This is bad."

Joseph collected himself, and nodded rapidly. "Aye. Aye, we need to tell 'em. This thing's too dangerous. We can't get caught off guard."

The two of them headed back for Hitman's quarters, finding everyone save for Jerry just fine, the medic still in the infirmary nursing his wounds. Roderick was in a brace, with his upper leg bandaged up and taped to allow him limited mobility, while Murphy was simply stretching out his own leg. Bridget sat on the couch, watching the television, but otherwise seemed unperturbed. Murphy noticed the door opening, and almost immediately caught onto the mood by looking at his men's faces.

"Got a feelin' you got some bad news, Lex," Murphy guessed, his eyes narrowing. He was obviously piecing together the worst-case scenario in his head, as he always did. This wasn't the worst case, but it was almost as bad.

"Yes, sir. Menace ran into a new hostile contact. Almost human, but more than human. Beat the shit out of 'em, and ran off with the Skirmisher representative."

"Dear _God_ ," Roderick exclaimed from his position on his bunk, grunting in pain as he attempted to shift himself around to sit and face Alexios. "How many casualties?"

"One captured, all members of Menace save for Jack WIA. At least, I haven't heard Jack say he was hit. He screams regardless."

"Fuck's sake, what the hell was strong enough to take on all four of 'em and run off with an HVT!?" asked a gobsmacked Bridget.

"Like I said. Some kind of... metahuman, or something, I don't know how else to explain it. Purple skin, really lithe, but muscular, wearing some kind of armor similar to ADVENT, had a katana-"

"Did you just say a fucking KATANA!?" Roderick went from 'surprised' to 'outright flabbergasted'.

"Yep, and the sheath was some kind of magnetic shotgun. I'm telling you what I saw. Had some specialized smoke grenades and a personal cloak, too. Plus a teleport beacon."

"Well, fuck me dead, then. We're gonna need a plan."

"Aye, if we wanna take this thing on in the field, we'll need to have a protocol in place. Without Jerry, though, we won't be able to medicate-"

"What about the kids?" Roderick asked.

"The hell I'll put the kids in the path of a superpowered alien samurai," Murphy spat, glaring at Roderick. "Completely off the table."

"They're melee combat specialists, or at least two of 'em are!"

"Then they can teach us how to use bloody swords so we can fight the thing, or we can use better guns and blow them to bloody pieces, but we're not putting them at that kind of risk!"

"Will we even know when that thing's coming? Every mission sounds like a risk now," Alexios countered. "They promised they'd help us, Captain. We can't tell them to sit down and shut up now, not without a good reason."

"Yeah. Everything's a bloody toss now. I don't know. I'll talk with Adam and Remi when Menace gets back. We'll need a good plan of action in case Central can't properly brief us on the situation. Where are the kids?"

"They went to grab eats with the rest of the off-duties. They got there as we were leaving," Roderick answered.

"Right. When they get here, give 'em time to sort themselves, then I'll call a huddle with everyone, including the tykes. We're gonna need a damn good plan if we're gonna pull this off without bodgin' it all to shit."


	16. Stay Frosty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans and plots start to take shape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need feedback pls. Seriously. Even if it's telling me how much you hate my writing style, give me SOMETHING to work with.
> 
> ALSO, I set up a different time scale and notation for Remnant compared to Earth, for the sake of variety. Instead of AM and PM, it's BN and AN (Before Noon and After Noon). The time resets at midnight, like ours. Also, for the sake of brevity (and through context clues), I've determined that I'll write Remnant's time as being similar to ours... to an extent. There's no leap year, and the scale of orbit and rotation is flat (so their calendar and times never change like ours do). Thanks to the reddit post HERE ( https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/a2g1zg/an_attempt_to_actually_establish_a_calendarbased/ ) for giving me a working frame to base it around.
> 
> Days: I've gone with seven days a week, all of them named like ours out of a freak coincidence.  
> Months: For the school year to work, it would have to be a 12 month system, so here you go  
> Earth Months: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December  
> Remnant Months: Fria, Freidis, Vernus, Sadis, Mavas, Judius, Jurius, Jodus, Halcene, Hocene, Lavos, Frigis
> 
> So, for example, Adam Jones' Birthday is December 13th (or if he were from Remnant, 13th of Frigis), but Ruby's Birthday would be written as 31st of Hocene (October 31st)
> 
> Years are measured currently in time after the great war, or AB (Antebellum). Since the war took place appx. 80 years before canon, for example, Ruby in V1 (at about 15) would be born in Y65 AB (Year 65 Antebellum). 
> 
> To tell you anything else about how I'm comparing Earth and Remnant Time would be spoilers. Be patient, it's coming soon.

A couple of days had passed since Menace's return, and now that they'd recouped, Murphy was ready to start getting plans out on the table. In the days since he stated the need for a plan, Central had laid out his own. Mox's location had been tracked to a prison out in Texas, which they would need to get into somehow. However, they'd never pulled off a prison break before. They'd need to scout the place out, get intel, find weaknesses, and most importantly, ask some very important questions of some very important people. Things were going to get shady...

Menace Team stood around the door leaving Hitman's room, save for Sophie, who sat next to the still-laid out Jerry, who was listening with closed eyes. The man slept most of the time that he wasn't trying to do his normal duties through the pain of his injuries. Roderick, Alexios, Bridget, and Joseph all still sat or sprawled out on their bunks, making themselves somewhat comfortable in the tense atmosphere, while both Assassin and the kids took seats either on the floor or at the table in the center of the room, now void of its usual card set and drinks, replaced with a few papers- duty rosters, maps, grids, the like. 

"So," Adam lead off, stalking around the room as he often did. The man couldn't keep still in tough situations, it was one of the many, MANY quirks that Murphy had learned to deal with as the Sergeant's- or was it Captain's? He'd heard the man got an impromptu promotion- tenure. "We've got two operations on the table before we hit the facility, according to Grace. We're sending a team of three to scope out the prison, get an eye on the defenses, guard rotations, layout, the like. Another three man team will be headed into the nearest city, San Antonio, to find an important ADVENT official with some _intimate_ knowledge of the goings on regarding our..." Adam paused, running his hand across the raw, red gauge down his jawline. It had gotten better externally, but you could tell that it was a blow to 'Invincible' Adam Jones to get hit at all. "... _new acquaintance_ ," he growled, bitterness dripping from every syllable.

"I'm still a little out of the loop here, guys," Jaune piped up, "can I get some kind of heads up on what's going on?"

"Last op we pulled was supposed to be arbitrating some negotiations between two other groups of anti-ADVENT resistance," Lawrence explained, leaning back against the wall. "Some bitch calling herself one of 'The Elder's Chosen' beat our asses black and blue, and nabbed one of those group's representatives. We gotta bust him out of prison, starting by casing out said prison and beating the unholy shit out of some poor SOB who backed the wrong horse. We've got semi-reliable intel on his going-abouts thanks to our newest operator- Thanks, Outrider."

A shadowy woman in a hooded trenchcoat nodded in the corner. Murphy didn't like her- she seemed even shadier in person than when Adam described her to him. For all his dishonest work, he preferred honest blokes.

"Anyhow," Lawrence continued, "we're gonna go corner his ass and get the answers we need. Once both teams get home, we hit the prison with a small infiltration team, then bolt like a motherfucker, and hope that 'Chosen' doesn't decide to come back for seconds."

"I hope she fuckin' does," Declan grumbled, visibly gritting his teeth. "I want a fuckin' rematch."

"You barely even got a hit in, D, what makes you think you can win this time?" Alexios asked, exasperated.

"I wasn't ready that time!"

"And you won't be ready this time," Ezekiel interrupted, before looking at Pyrrha. "But we will be. Dear Miss Nikos, forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you're something of a celebrity back home, aren't you?" His eyes flickered a little bit, and Murphy buckled, his fists instinctively clenching. He hated when Zeke started picking people's brains.

Pyrrha blanched, but, to her credit, she didn't lie. She nodded. "Yes. Somewhat."

"Two-time tournament champion, while you were only 14 tender years old! The youngest ever to claim that honor, and then lightning struck twice! Well, I believe your prowess with a sword might be able to help out our absolute shitshow of melee combatants."

"Hey, I do just fine, I don't need no help!" Declan protested.

"What kind of fucking idiot do you take me for, Cajun?" Remi asked, his brow furrowing as he stood up, shooting a look that could melt steel at the psiguy. Roderick, however, didn't seem at all opposed to the idea.

"I mean," Roddy said, shrugging his shoulders, "I'll be the first to admit that the only guy among us with any experience with a sword is Remi. Even Watanabe only picked it up after he joined in. Plus, fighting someone with more experience is way better training then us just wailing on each other like wacky inflatable tube-arm men."

Pyrrha still didn't say anything else, just looking extremely uncomfortable as Zeke continued staring her down. Murphy finally had enough.

"Oi, Zeke, quit with the freaky shit before I slug you in the jaw!" he shouted over the 'discussion', which was slowly degrading into a stare-down anyway. Zeke blinked, his eyes returning to a more neutral tone, followed by a genuinely unnerving smile from the old vet.

"Man, Oz, you spooked me! Was just having a bit of fun."

"I dinnae ken to yer idea of 'fun' very much, ser," Joseph stated, turning his attention to Pyrrha. "Ye know, we tol' ya ye can say no to anythin', and we meant-"

She cut him off. "I'll do it. You could use the help, right? It's the least I can do."

Murphy turned to look at the redhead, raising a hand. "This stops when you want it to. Just tell us." He could tell that, for some reason, she didn't like the idea. Maybe it was the fact that the suggestion was just literally forced into her brain.

"No, it's fine."

Adam turned to look at Zeke, who just shrugged, before turning back to Murphy. "So, now that we broached the last issue first... we need to talk about things that are actually important. The operations. I'm taking point on the VIP takedown."

"No, you're not," Alexios spoke up. "I am."

"Excuse _fucking_ me!?" Adam practically _roared_ before Zeke grabbed his shoulder. Adam looked like he was ready to jump across the room and rip a piece out of Lex, but for once, Zeke did something besides stand around, look creepy, and mindrape people.

"Easy, buddy! We're just concerned about your recent moods. Nothin' more."

Adam visibly balked, but his expression hardened a mere instant after. "This is my show," he insisted. "Unless you can give me a damn good reason to defer to you, I'm taking point."

"Because the VIP knows you, and you know the VIP, Jones," Alexios stated. Now it was Murphy's turn to get pissed. They'd talked about this, and Lex agreed that he'd let Murphy tackle that issue when it came up, but as always, he assumed that a doctorate meant that he was the smartest man in the room.

"All the more reason I should take point then. If it's someone who knows me, they won't fuck with me," Adam stated. "I'm taking point, and I'm taking the tykes with me. I don't-"

"Now hold the fuck on!" Remi spoke up, a little lilt to his voice as he sat down. "Could it be that the Invincible Adam Jones needs a CRUTCH?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Frenchie-" Adam hissed, raising a fist just as the Belgian interrupted him.

"Belgian." Normally, Remi would get pissed at the mistake, but he seemed to be having fun riling up Adam. Phil grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back into his seat, which seemed to put a quick end to his merriment. With that settled, Murphy turned to take a look at Adam.

"Adam, why do you want them around?"

"Because they have no names, and no faces, as far as ADVENT is concerned," Adam explained, slowly easing up.  "I'm a wanted man. They're not. It's a good smokescreen, if they agree to it."

"So you're askin' em?" Murphy asked, before turning to look at JNPR. "You're alright with this idea? No killin', no fightin', just grabbin' a bloke and askin' him a few questions."

Jaune took a second to think, looking at the rest of his team for confirmation. Pyrrha still looked a bit shaken, as one would after getting jacked in the brain by a psionic, but she seemed to be back in the right place enough to make a call. They all nodded at him, which lead to Jaune turning to look at Murphy.

"Yeah. We'll help."

"Excellent. I'll be taking you and Pyrrha," Adam stated, not even letting Murphy speak up. "Murphy needs the others for something else."

"Adam, you- ugh. Aye. I do need to have you and Nora come along," Murphy explained as he turned his attention to Ren in specific. "Gotta scope out the prison. You're quiet, Ren, and Nora can make enough noise to stop anyone from following us, if you get what I mean."

"I don't, really," Ren replied.

"I mean that she can beat the piss out of anyone who comes at us."

"Ooooooooooooh! I can do THAT!" the ever-chipper Nora piped in, raising her hand. "I'm in!"

"Then I suppose it's the least I can do to help you. I'll come as well."

"Ace, mate. As for the rest of you lot," Murphy continued, turning around and looking around the room. "Hitman, we don't have any Rangers save for Rod. Lex, Jo, anything you can do to help the techs figure out how to get these on the road, you do it. You have my leave unless I need you for an op. Jerry, focus on getting well. Bridget, keep yourself busy with whatever it is you do when you're not on the bloody couch."

Bridget looked indignant, before rolling her eyes and looking off.  

"Menace, you follow Adam on whatever he needs done. Assassin, I understand you're on op standby. Only thing I ask of you is to run whatever's happening with you lot by me. I wanna keep abreast of everyone's shit now that the 'Chosen' is runnin' around."

"Oui. We can do that," Phil agreed.

"Great. Appreciate you comin' by, all of ya. Now fuck off, I gotta do some plannin' and shit, and we're packed in like bleedin' sardines."

Assassin left without a word, while Menace loitered around a bit, waiting for them to get a ways off before following. Adam stopped at the door, and looked back at Murphy and the assembled.

"Thanks for fuckin' listening."

"Keep your cool, Adam. We're fine," Murphy said, throwing his fellow vet a small smile. He wasn't usually the smiling type, but he made exceptions when he thought it would put people at ease. "Just keep yourself together."

With that, he left, and Hitman's room was all but silent for a blessed few minutes. Jerry seemed to be drifting off to sleep again, Roderick was eyeballing one of his many movie posters that he had pinned up in one of the corner walls, Joseph and Alexios were giving each other The Look that they always gave each other, and Bridget...

Bridget was just pissed.

"Do you really gotta assassinate me like that every fucking time I'm in the room?" she asked, leaning over onto her knees and glaring at him, a curtain of blonde falling over her left eye thanks to the not-so-tender mercies of gravity.

"Your reactions make it worth it, plus, you really don't do anything," Roderick contributed.

"He's got a point," Jerry called out sleepily, raising a finger.

"I'm the best shot on this whole fucking boat, and you tell me I don't do ANYTHING?"

"Um..." Jaune attempted to interrupt, slowly rising from his chair.

"Yes, I'm telling you you don't do anything, Bridget, you sit in your bed and jack it unless there's an op that specifically requires you," Alexios explained, in his usual 'I'm being a polite asshole' tone.

"Well you always get fucking Lawrence! How come you don't give me something to do, huh, shitlord?" she asked.

"Because he knows how to shut the fuck up."

"Alright, Gigantor, I'm about six inches from being on sight with you-"

"Guys?" Jaune asked.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT, BEANPOLE!?" Bridget shouted, turning her attention to Jaune, who audibly yelped before taking a step back. "Oh, shit, um... sorry!"

Jaune gave an offhand wave and a nervous smile, before saying what he'd intended to say. "Um, that guy. Zeke. With the purple eyes. What exactly did he... do?"

"What do you mean, what did he do?" Roderick asked.

"He was _inside_ my _HEAD_." Pyrrha stated, obviously quite upset about it, too.

"Yeah, he, um..." Jerry contributed again, turning over in bed to look at the others. "He... does that. To people. It's not really cool."

"Yeah, he was trying to get a better read on your history, probably. He did that to me when we first met. Wasn't very comfortable for me. You good, love?"

"I'm... fine. I just don't want him doing that again. Ever."

"I am ten-thousan' percent on board with tha' idea, lass," Joseph agreed. "Fucker's creepy. Somethin's wrong with those Psi types. If he's strong enough to get by the psionic blockers, then he's a bloody monster."

"Psionic blockers?" Jaune asked.

"A'right, I'll give ya a quickie, John-Boy. Back when the war started, there was a crew 'a lads with what we call 'psionic potential'," Joseph explained. "It's the whole reason the Ayys are on Earth in the firs' place, try'na tap into tha' potential for themselves. Humans have it as a rule, but cannae access it without specific trainin' or extremely strong genetics. Zeke's a rare case a' both, from what I read in his file. Lad's a bloody freak!" The Scotsman waved his arms out for emphasis before continuing. "Huge Psi potential plus trainin' from the original XCOM project. The psi inhibitors are designed to suppress latent psionics in the city centers an' such. Zeke? He causes the damn things to **backfire.** The man might be the single most powerful asset XCOM has now."

"You guys are almost at his level, from what it sounds like, but something's locked down your powers. I've got a hypothesis, but I'd need an op in the field to test it," Alexios added. "Maybe once this business with the prison break is done, we can take a look. In fact, I think Central agrees with me, Mac. You know what Assassin is on standby for, right?"

"No, gimme an ear."

"They're hitting the psionic network junction in Detroit. If they knock it down..."

"All th' inhibitors in th' area will shut down!" Joseph exclaimed. "Wait... yer not tellin' me ye think-"

"That the psionic inhibitors affect you four's 'Aura'. I absolutely believe that. There's not a single doubt in my mind," Alexios stated. "I know that them having powers brought by the 'soul' and Zeke having powers of the mind is no fuckin' coincidence. We're all humans here, after all."

"So once this 'psionic network' is shut down, you believe that our Auras will be restored to fully working order?" Ren asked.

"Yes. And once Assassin completes their operation, I'll know for sure. But until then, I need you four to be careful. I want to be proven right, and that requires all four of you to be alive by the time they're done. So no doing stupid shit, especially you two," Alexios continued, pointing at Jaune and Pyrrha. "You're stuck with Adam's crazy ass, which is not conducive to a long lifespan."

Murphy sighed. If only Lex, and everyone else, knew the half of it.

"We'll be fine. Pyrrha and I have had each other's backs since initiation. It's gonna take more than a little bit of crazy to keep us down," Jaune assured him, before looking to his partner. Pyrrha smiled back at him, but it was obvious she wasn't all into it. She really seemed hesitant about everything regarding this, which Murphy could respect, but... he felt like he had to ask.

"Pyrrha, are you sure you're alright with this? I can send Joseph in your stead, if you're uncomfortable with all this," he offered.

"Aye, I'm rip rarin' ta go, lass, just say the word!" Joseph agreed with a big, sunny smile. Murphy knew he'd act that way about it, he always did. Jo went out of his way to try and be the heart of Hitman.

"I'm... fine. I don't like this, is all," she admitted. "The whole military bent of it. But, it's necessary, I suppose. I trust my team, and I feel I can trust you, Captain. So long as Jaune is alright with this, I will be too."

It was obvious to him once again that Pyrrha and Jaune had a close, damn-near symbiotic relationship. In the field, she took to her own pretty well, but it seemed that off of it, she was more comfortable sliding into the position of second man, letting Jaune make the calls while only piping in when she had concerns. He respected that, every leader needed a strong number two, and Jaune, from what it seemed, could use all the help he could get. Hell, maybe field time would help him understand them better...

They were gonna be gone in a few months, tops. Why was he worried about understanding them? His job was to get them home, nothing else. Ah, well. He'd figure that out later. Right now, he had a job to plan out, and so did they.

Here's hoping it went for the better.  
  
"Adam's probably gonna want you guys to saddle up soon. These ops are happening tonight," Murphy explained, trying his best to put them at ease. "Jaune, Pyrrha, talk to Adam about what you need to do, he'll want you to get some kind of disguises, since you're going into hostile turf. Ren, Nora, just wait for my call. Our part's easier."

"Sounds good to me." With that, Jaune helped Pyrrha to her feet, and started towards the door. "Guess we gotta go find him."

"Good luck, you two! Keep him out of trouble!" Murphy called after them, before turning back to the remaining duo. "Or try to, anyway," he muttered. "We got time. Do whatever you need to do to get ready. I'll let you know when we're rolling."

 

**Elsewhere**

 

**Remnant**

 

 

Eric Frost finally remembered how long he'd been gone from Earth. It had taken him a while, but he finally put it together.

Two and a half years. He'd been gone for two and a half years. At first, surviving was hard. Those 'Grimm' everywhere, along with not knowing where he was, nearly got him killed on several occasions. But, he survived on the wilderness. He did that for about four or five months before he found his way into the city. He bummed around there for about a year and a half before the police got tired of him stealing shit, digging through dumpsters and otherwise being a public nuisance, and back out to the woods he went for what felt like ages, but couldn't be more than three or four months. That's when the girl found him. Blake. That was her name. Blake Belladonna.

Shit, she had to be Lawrence's kids' age. Lawrence... he was probably still alive. No way that SOB was gonna get taken down by a few aliens. Hell, Eric only took that one for the team because Lawrence didn't see it coming.

_What are their names, Eric? It's two girls and a boy. No, two boys and a girl. One's John, I know that... Johnny, Lawrence Junior, and Janice. No, no, no, the boy is Jason. Which boy? Jason, Johnny... or was it Larry and Jason... no, it wasn't Janice, it's Jean. Yeah. Larry, Jason, and Jean. Larry, Jason, Jean._

The operator looked into the small mirror above the infirmary's modest washbasin, observing his freshly-shaven face and cut hair. Goodwitch, at least, he thought that was her name, was nice enough to use some kind of... magical thing... to reset the bone in his arm AND give him a haircut. Other than the scars, he looked like he did two and a half years ago. Thin mustache, short hair... he looked like a soldier again. Professional. Too bad he didn't feel like one. Man, he nearly butchered a kid in cold blood.

He was losing it. Good god, he really was losing it. He'd seen guys lose it in the Sandbox, saw it quite a few times. Hell, Lawrence was like that when they first met, constantly dissociating from the bad shit he had to do in the Army, but Larry never went fucking nuts. _Eric_ went fucking nuts. Christ's sake...

Running a bit more hot water, Eric splashed his face and knocked off the last bits of hair clinging to his chin after that deep shave. He felt a lot better, even if it hurt to use his left arm. Not even magic could fix that one right away. They'd given him fresh clothes, too. Cargo pants, a white tee-shirt, and a jacket in case it got cold for him.

Looking at the door out of his infirmary room, he debated just... walking out. Glynda had told him earlier he'd been given a pardon for any crimes he committed while mentally incapacitated, under Ozpin's good name, and was given a temporary residence ID valid in the Academy City proper. He could leave whenever he wanted, theoretically, unless the door was locked. If he didn't feel like staying, he could find a job, just loiter around. Then again, going home sounded like a good idea. See if the world... survived. He had no doubt humanity lost the fight against the aliens. He just hoped there was something left to save of it.

Maybe a little walk would do him some good.

Still, it would be kinda... you know, suspicious, if he left without saying anything. He dug around the room for a pencil, and found the clipboard the nurse had been using to track his progress. He flipped over the first page, and started writing. Of course, being as he was a southpaw having to use his right hand, lest his arm feel like it was being ripped off... it wasn't the prettiest.

 

_Ozpin_

_Got tired of sitting in bed. Went outside. Will come back soon. Left my stuff as collateral._

_Eric_

 

Leading with his good arm, and grabbing his jacket on the way out, Eric quietly pushed out of his room into the main wing of the infirmary, which was quite large compared to most school infirmaries he'd seen- whereas most had maybe two beds, this one had six separate rooms. There wasn't anyone at the front desk, so he just snuck right out. The halls were quiet- night out, so all the students were probably sleeping, if the dorms were on campus. Walking about for a little while, he found a large post near some sort of lobby, which seemed to have public transit times. Good to know. The next ride out was in...

_Shit, I don't have a watch._

Well, no time like the present. He'd walk to the bus stop or whatever himself.

The walk from the front doors of the Academy, which somehow were still unlocked, to the bus stop was almost intolerably long. At least five minutes of walking, and by the time Eric got there, the bus was about to leave. Luckily, the driver noticed Eric trying to flag him down, and slowed down just long enough for him to hop on.

"Thanks," Eric rasped. _Rasped. God, what happened to my voice?_  

"No problem. Go ahead and take any seat you'd like, sir."

Eric milled his way to the back of the mostly empty bus, sitting on the back row of benches, where it seemed one guy was taking a nap, and a woman with... well, apparently that was a gator tail... was checking her phone.

 _Remnant is fucking_ **_weird_ ** _._

Looking up at the clock on the front of the bus, he saw the time. 11:38. Nice and late. No one would likely notice he was gone if he made it back before first light. Then again, he didn't know when the sun came up here. Maybe he'd ask someone in town. It would seem weird, but hey, wouldn't be the first time he was a stranger in a strange land. And at least the people here weren't gonna pull guns on him. Probably. He didn't have a gun anymore, and his dominant arm was fucked. If someone did pull a gun on him, well, he'd be cooked. At least he'd be off Remnant, though. Maybe he'll just encourage someone to put a slug between his eyes, see if it works out.

Nah. Had to get home. Absolute priority.

The bus stopped for a moment, and a feminine voice called out over an intercom. **_"Historic Boardwalk and Riverside."_ **

Eric considered disembarking, but changed his mind. As much as the idea of taking a walk along the river intrigued him, he'd do that another time. Leaning back into his seat, he turned his eyes from the clock to a map on the window next to him. They looked to be on some green route, that entered this city- also named Vale, very convenient- starting at the Historic Boardwalk and Riverside, then continued through the Residential District, crossed the river into the Commercial District near City Hall, then rolled all the way through to the Industrial District, ending at a junction that split into two- the orange line to the Old City and the green line that went to the Port.

The Commercial District sounded nice and busy. Good place to kill a few hours, even if he didn't have money to-

His jacket pocket vibrated. Huh.

Digging into the front breast pocket, he found what appeared to be some kind of phone, with a few new messages.

* * *

 

**_From: Ozpin, 7:00 AN_ **

**Slide the white bar at the bottom of the screen to unlock the device. Once that's done, you only need to press the button to use it.**

 

**_From: Blake Belladonna, 7:01 AN_ **

**Ozpin asked me to leave you my contact information if you had any questions about what happened in the Forest. I'll be busy with classwork, but don't hesitate to ask if you need something.  
**

**_From: Ruby Rose, 7:33 AN_ **

**Hope your arm is feeling better! ^_^**

 

**_From: Qrow Branwen, 10:00 AN_ **

**Don't lose the Scroll.**

 

**_From: Ozpin, 11: 32 AN_ **

**Enjoy your late night outing, Mr. Frost. I left a substantial amount of funds on a charge card for you. It's in the wallet in your front pocket.**

* * *

 

How the fuck did he-  


"Man, this Ozpin guy is something else, huh..." Eric muttered, checking the front pocket of his jacket. Sure enough, in the left side, there was a small wallet, and upon closer inspection, it had both an ID and a credit card. The ID had no photo, but everything else was...

Completely wrong. His birthday was March 9th, 1980, not '22 Jodus Y46 AB', and they were a bit off calling him 34 (if he kept track of time right, add 3 years). About the only thing right they got about him was the name. Hard to fuck up 'Eric Frost.' His attention then shifted to the card, which simply had some strange logo on it that he didn't recognize. Twin axes. Must be some kind of company logo, or maybe a flag? Whatever, the man had money now, and that was what's important. He'd go get himself some real food, enjoy some time to think, then head back to Beacon without any trouble.

Suddenly, he noticed something at the front of the bus. A big, hulking mass of pink and green.

That son of a bitch had followed him here. Somehow, it was still FUCKING ALIVE.

Slowly, the muton stalked its way to the back of the bus, grabbing that big serrated blade it had jammed into his hip on his first day in this godforsaken place, a trail of orange blood oozing behind it all the way back. Eric looked for an exit, any kind of emergency exit, something that could get him off this damn bus RIGHT NOW, but he couldn't move. He felt frozen in place, hell, turning his neck caused him physical agony. He couldn't look away from the thing that had been chasing him all this-

"Hey, man, Hey! Hey! HEY!"

There was a sharp jolt to Eric's head, and he suddenly realized their wasn't a Muton. There was just a man looking at him, dressed in a black vest with matching slacks and a cyan dress shirt. Blonde, skinny, with slicked back hair and a thin beard. Probably a little younger than him, too, and big, bright blue eyes filled with worry. He had some kind of holster on his hip, although in the low light of the bus Eric couldn't tell what was in it.

"W-what? What?" Eric responded, blinking rapidly and attempting to collect himself. "What is it?"

"You look like shit, man, and I saw you just... staring at the front of the bus, shaking like a leaf. You okay?" The man had a deep, smooth voice. It reminded him of what you'd expect from a stereotypical therapist or something. It was a voice that encouraged you to trust the person behind it, whether they were trustworthy or not.

Eric didn't trust strangers.

"Fine. Just... zoned out for a minute," Eric replied, hardening his features and straightening himself out.

"People don't just zone out like that, especially people that look like you. Those cuts look fresh."

"Had an incident in the woods, I'm fine. I just wanted to get something to eat, and unwind."

"Well, tell you what. I don't know that you're in any shape to be alone, the way you just were acting. I work at a club not far from here. I can get you food, something to drink, and a place to take a seat and relax. How about that?"

Eric REALLY didn't trust this guy and his 'concern'. He'd seen plenty of 'concern' in the city from people who just looked at him and kept walking, hoping that he wouldn't pursue. But, at the same time, this guy actually acknowledged him, and was offering something. Better than the usual, at least. Maybe he was worth trusting JUST as far as the club. Besides, it's not like he was asking him to get wrecked, he was just offering a meal and drinks. So long as he kept his shit together, Eric might get something out of this.

"Fine. I'll come along," Eric agreed.

"Great. I'll tell my boss when we get in, he'll get you sorted." The man sat down next to him. "Moviy, by the way. Moviy Vodyanoy." 

"Eric Frost."

"Eric. Eric, Eric, Eric. That's an odd one." Moviy rested a finger on his chin, slipping into a moment of deep thought. "Never heard it before. Frost, though, I've heard. Lived with a guy named Frost for a while. He was a _dick_ . " 

Eric wasn't sure why he needed to know that, but whatever.

"Buuuuuut! I digress. Believe it or not, the club is really close to the next stop, so you don't have much of a ride left. I'll introduce you to my boss, get you some drinks, and let you enjoy the ambiance. I won't be able to talk long, unfortunately- my shift starts early tonight."

"Thanks, Moviy."

"It's not a problem, man." Moviy placed a hand tentatively on Eric's shoulder. "I saw you when you got on, you looked lost as shit. You new around here?"

"Yeah. Kinda," Eric replied. A half-truth never hurt anyone.

"Lot of new people around here lately, it's freaky," Moviy complained, leaning back on his seat. "Most of 'em are the same- ugly bastards from Vacuo who came to bet on the fucking cockfight coming up."

"Cockfight?"

"Yeah, don't you know? The Vytal Tournament's coming up." The blonde's expression soured. "We get to watch a bunch of kids beat the shit out of each other instead of, you know... the Grimm they're supposed to be learning to protect us from. All for what? A fucking preening session about how great peace is? Gimme a break."

The rant caught Eric off guard, but he rolled with it. "Yeah. I agree. Sounds pretty pretentious."

"Right!? Everyone acts like this is some big, great achievement, and that we should be PROUD of ourselves for shit our ancestors did before we were even thought into existence," Moviy continued. "Really, someone should just drop a bomb on the whole fucking thing, put it to bed."

That was... just a little excessive. "Right."

Moviy perked up almost immediately, with disturbing speed, really. "All that shit aside, we should be close to our stop! Come on." Moviy stood up, waving. "Our stop, driver!" The bus started to slow, and confident that he could balance without his arm, Eric followed Moviy to the front of the bus. The 'club' was nowhere in sight. Really, it just looked like rustic, old buildings. As he stepped off the bus and followed his new 'friend', Eric couldn't help but feel concerned that he'd been led into some sort of trap.

"Where the fucking club?" he asked, his voice lowering in an attempt to be more threatening. This guy didn't know his arm was fucked, and even after bumming it for a few months, Eric would wager he still looked like a tough customer.

"You know you're only the fifteenth guy I've taken out who asked that? Relax. It's bigger on the inside. And prettier. Much, MUCH prettier. Come on."

Moviy motioned for Eric to follow, and leaned against the door as Eric walked up beside him. "Oh, BOYS!"

The slat on the door opened to reveal a pair of shiny red sunglasses. "Password."

"I'm the fucking DJ, dumbass! And the ruggedly handsome gentleman is with me!" Moviy replied, frowning his shoulder at the slat. "Don't make me call Junior."

The slat slammed shut, and the door swung open behind Moviy, causing him to stumble backwards a bit before collecting himself. "Shiiiiiet. Alright, I'm good, I'm good. Come on in, Eric! It's a little bit cool in here, since my shift doesn't start for another ten, but people are gonna be FLOODING in soon. I'm kind of a big deal, you see. Anyway, right, the bar. Come on, come on."

Eric followed Moviy inside the bar, noticing the wash of colored lights, which were very slowly shifting from red to grey as some relaxed, slow-paced drum-and-bass played in the background. Not at all his style, but he would deal with it for free drinks. The walk to the bar wasn't too eventful, just people loitering around, only turning and paying attention when Moviy passed by. People seemed to recognize him, or at least, some did. There was a man behind the bar, a huge bear of a brother with a thick beard, a fancy tie, and a glass in hand. He looked at Moviy out of the corner of his eyes.

"What did you promise this one, Mo?" he asked.

"Free drinks! And food. He kinda looks like he needs both."

"Fine, but since you're here early, you get to run the order on the food."

"Alright, alright," Moviy muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll be back for you after my set, Eric! Hope you enjoy the show." With another pat on the shoulder, he walked around the bar, and opened a door behind the bigger man, which seemed to lead to the kitchen. Once he was gone, said big man slowly turned to look at Eric.

"Don't let him make you do anything you don't want to do, he puts the moves on just about anything with legs these days," he explained, before extending his hand to Eric, "Junior Xiong. I own the place."

"I didn't notice," Eric lied. He took the proffered hand with his good one, giving it a firm shake. "Eric Frost. Pleasure, Junior."

"You got ID?"

"Yeah. Hang on."

Digging into his pocket, he took out his wallet and passed over the ID to Junior, who immediately frowned.

"Not supposed to take these, Eric. Photo ID only." Despite this, Junior shrugged, and looked back down at Eric. "... but, I'll tell you what. I'd rather not hear Moviy bitch at me for running you off, and you look like you need a drink. Consider this a freebie."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't. I don't run a charity here." Grabbing a small tablet from under the bar, he passed it over to Eric, who caught it with the edge of his hand and started looking over it. Looked like a menu. "Order what you want, I'll charge him for it. You got an idea of what you want to drink?"

"White Russian."

"White what?"

"Shit, forgot. Different place. Um... you know a Skip and Go Naked?"

"Yeah, I know that. Gimme a sec..." Junior took a second to think, leaning over the bar and glancing up at the ceiling pensively. "... beer, vodka, shot of gin, and lemonade?"

"I normally hear it with Sprite, but that works."

"I have no idea what Sprite is, but hell, if you're good with it." Junior grabbed a glass off the rack, and started milling about the bar, finding the ingredients for the drink. "So, what brings you to Vale?"

Eric thought for a moment, he needed a good alibi... or maybe he could stick to half-truths and lies of omission. "... got a little lost. Ended up here on complete accident."

"Yep, happens to a lot of people, believe it or not," Junior replied, pouring the beer and vodka for the drink before moving on to find the gin, "especially here recently. Lots of village folk and Vacuoans trying to find a better life, and end up at my bar regardless of whether they got it or not. You fit into either of those categories, Eric?"

"Nah. I'm just wandering."

"I like honest men, Eric. Are you really JUST wandering?"

Eric supposed their was no harm in telling a little bit of truth. "Trying to find my way home."

"What, Vale not treating you right?"

"Ran into a Grimm my first day in. Didn't leave a great impression."

"Shit, I haven't heard about any attacks. Where were you?"

"I was in the Emerald Forest... looking for something."

"Don't go running off into the forest alone, Eric, all kinds of crazy shit happens there."

 _Don't I know it,_ Eric thought, as Junior finished off the mix with a short pour of lemonade and a lemon wedge for show. "Skip and Go!" he called out, and with that, he slid it along the bar to Eric, who realized he'd have to catch it with his bad hand. Fuck. As the glass slid into his outstretched arm... it didn't hurt at all. This magic stuff really worked! With a shattered arm, moving his arm enough to catch the thing should have been a herculean effort.

"Thanks for the late warning." As he looked around the menu, he finally caught something that gave him a little bit of a pang in the gut. He hadn't had a good fried pickle in a long time.

"Am I reading that right? Fried pickles?"

"They go good with beer, from what I hear. Not a fan of 'em myself," Junior replied.

"I'll take some, then."

"Sounds good. Moviy! Fried pickles, make it a double!"

"Alright, alright, alriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!" came the reply from the kitchen. Junior rolled his eyes, and turned back to Eric. "So, where's home for you?"

Eric took a minute to think, before deciding deflection was the best option.

"You wouldn't know it. It’s a shitty place."

"Oh, you'd be SHOCKED to hear what I know. Try me."

"I'll pass."

"Ah, come on, what's the harm? I am letting you freeload in my club, after all, looking like you went six rounds with an Ursa- oh wait, it sounds like you did." Junior smirked, leaning a bit further over the bar.

"Los Angeles," Eric replied, hoping that would satisfy him. Junior mulled it for a moment, and shrugged.

"You did warn me. Never heard of Los Angeles. Sounds like a nice place, by the name," Junior said, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me about it."

"Clogged up, full of assholes, and surrounded by tourists."

Junior chuckled, a low, grumbling sound, and shook his head. "You're right. Sounds shitty. Almost like Vale, come to think of it. Wh-" Junior stopped at the sound of the door opening, and rolled his eyes. "Speaking of assholes, don't mind this bitch."

Eric turned to look anyway, and noted a lithe, slender woman in heels sashaying her way over to the bar, giving Junior an offhand wave as her focus immediately shifted to Eric. She had eerie amber-colored eyes, eyes that made him very, VERY uncomfortable the moment they met his. She looked like she was sizing him up for something.

"Yet another stranger in your bar, Junior. Word travels fast, I suppose. Sir, you wouldn't happen to know an Ezekiel Collins, would you?" The woman asked, her eyes narrowing just a bit as she examined Eric like one would a slab of beef on the butcher's hook.

* * *

 

_"Who the fuck are these guys..." Greg muttered, keeping his gun trained on one of the opposite number- a blonde with two handguns, one pointed at Lawrence, the other at Greg. The VIP was behind another man in bulky armor, with a head of curly brown hair and a surprisingly cheery disposition for a man who had a DMR aimed right between his eyes. Purple eyes. GLOWING purple eyes._

_"We're XCOM, here for the same reason as you, I'd wager. What's your name, soldier?"_

_"You first, 'XCOM'."_

_"Captain Ezekiel Collins. Your turn."_

* * *

 

"Can't say I have, miss..." Eric replied, trailing off as he waited for an introduction.

The woman frowned at him and sat down next to him. "Your name?"

"Eric."

"Hm."

Eric felt a wave of dread wash over him. _Oh, Lord have mercy, I am in a WORLD of shit._  



	17. Operation: Plain Site

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn brings Jon and Nikki to the club while he goes looking for a friend.
> 
> Or rather, Adam is bringing Jaune and Pyrrha to go and kill someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that unless it's a big op with a lot of windup, it'll be one chapter per operation, no more, no less. Even if it means the chapter is smaller.

_Journal Entry, April 1st, 2035._

 

_Acting Captain Adam Quincy Jones, Sharpshooter, Menace Team_

 

_On March 28th, 2035, four random kids with superpowers came flying into my life. They've been here for the better half of a week, and I've been getting better at dealing with them. I still don't particularly get along with them, but that's more the gene mods falling apart._

_Vahlen said once the deterioration started, I'd likely only have a year to live._

_I'm not ready. I don't think I ever will be. She never specified the best and worst case scenarios, so I'm hoping for a miracle. Maybe Tygan finds a breakthrough, or maybe Vahlen comes swooping back in, or maybe the mods deteriorate and I just become a normal, if a tad mentally buggered, human being. I don't know. I just hope._

_The mood swings are getting worse too. Murphy's trying to help me the best he can, but with the stress of all this new shite going on, seeing Zeke again, the pain from the deterioration... I'm lashing out at people more. I don't particularly like the looks I'm getting. Even the Commander's starting to have her doubts. I can tell. It's the way they all look at me. Especially the kids. They live on a fucking death planet and now they come here and practically get kidnapped by a crazy Englishman with orange streaks in his veins and a bad case of PTSD. I'd be scared of me too._ I’m _scared of me._

_Anyhow. We've got an operation on the docket. Objective: Secure the VIP, get him talking about the Chosen and the prison. This man supposedly has a lead on the latter, but we're supposed to check on the former. Any intel we can get. Brought Jaune and Pyrrha along with me. Not sure how well that's gonna go. Neither of their weapons were easily concealable, so I just packed two extra handguns. Hopefully we don't get strip-searched. One is illegal, but explainable. Three?_

_Yeah, I'm not about to get locked up after I've made it this far._

* * *

 

Adam swiped away the note function of his PDA, and switched over to one of the many info tabs he'd opened up. This one had three pictures, all of which had been taken just a few minutes ago on the Avenger. One of him, with his hair cut shorter and his beard shaven. One of Pyrrha, who'd been asked to take her hair down and put on a pair of glasses. Finally, one of Jaune, who they could only really doctor up by giving him a hat. Whatever, wasn't like either of the kids was known to ADVENT anyway. Adam was the important one.

"Alright," Adam started, looking up from the PDA at his two helpers on this little job. "Making sure you didn't fall and knock your heads before you got here- your names?"

"Nikki Pearce," Pyrrha replied.

"Jon Arc- ah, CRAP!"

"Oakley. Jon Oakley," Adam corrected, doing his best to keep his temper down. No reason to get angry over a simple mistake like that. Well, actually, there was plenty of reason, but being angry made him look like a wanker, and he preferred not being a wanker.

"Jon Oakley, got it," Jaune repeated.

"Good. The VIP is supposed to be in a club in the red-light area of San Antonio. We hit the place, find him, ask our questions, and leave. If things get nasty, we run to the extraction point and kill anything that tries to stop us." Adam opened the shortcoat he'd been given as part of his disguise, revealing the pistols on either side. "Keep close by. If it gets wild, these are for you two. Try not to kill yourselves with them."

Pyrrha frowned at him, while Jaune just acted like he wasn't fazed. The girl looked about as prettied up as someone in boring, solid grey slacks and a disgustingly drab dress shirt could be, and if she’d not let her hair down, Adam would have likely assumed her disguise was ‘pencil-pushing tosspot’. Jaune, meanwhile, somehow managed to look even worse. Someone in ADVENT had evidently watched ‘Back to The Future’ and assumed that yes, that was _actually_ what humans dressed like; because Jaune was wearing one of those ridiculous puff vests over a black shirt and khakis. Adam couldn’t help but feel a little bit terrified that in spite of how ridiculous Jaune looked, the boy seemed to be the only one at peace with it. That could only mean one thing- somehow, Remnant had an even WORSE fashion regimen.  
  
Oh, wait, Pyrrha came to Earth wearing a literal corset and high heels. Yeah, Adam could see why Jaune wasn’t fazed by fashion nightmares.  
  
All Adam knew about the club was that it was somewhat 'exclusive', meaning that they'd likely be burnt if they stuck around too long. Jaune and Pyrrha looked a bit more on the metrosexual teenager side, so they wouldn’t have much trouble, but Adam was already going to be drawing enough attention as a grizzled middle-aged man accompanying two children that look very little like him. In particular, he doubted he was anything resembling 'chic', what with a six inch gash down his right cheek and pulsing fluorescent veins.

"Anything you want to bring along that doesn't compromise the op, grab it," he ordered. "We're rolling out as soon as you're ready."

"I think we're ready, Adam," Pyrrha replied.

"Yeah," Jaune agreed. "I think we're good."

"Bang on. Let's ready up, we've got a job to do."

The Skyranger had taken them to a dropoff point where a Resistance contact was waiting with transport to take them into town proper. The ride wasn't too long, about thirty minutes, and they had some dummy accounts to funnel funds through, in case they actually, you know, WANTED something from the club. Not that it was a good idea to be drinking on the job, but the contact probably didn't know that's what the deal was, so a bit of 'discretionary funding' was standard procedure.

Adam knew the upper-crust areas of ADVENT's city-centers pretty well, considering that back when the war first ended, he frequented such places. They usually had the best lounges and the best drinks; you could say many things about him, but Adam Jones was, above almost all other things, a lounge lizard. This club, _Unity_ , seemed no different from any other ‘en vogue’ establishment he’d been forced into. Gold color scheme, lots and lots of fuck-off ugly halogen lights, same as most of the clubs and lounges in the city centers. The outer walls were a solid black, which made it stand out rather vividly from the drab grays and whites of the surrounding buildings. It was smaller than most, for sure, but then again, San Antonio was one of the smaller city centers. New York, Chicago, San Diego -- hell, even Houston was bigger.

Adam was the first out of the car, grabbing the door for Pyrrha while Jaune exited on the other side. Lucky for him traffic wasn't too bad -- drivers in the city centers only stopped when a bomb went off (and Adam would know, considering he was usually the one setting said bombs off). The club didn't have the most intense security, which was unusual. Usually, there were at least 3 ADVENT plus the VIP’s entourage, regardless of where the VIP was staying. He didn’t even see any ADVENT.

 _My name is Quinn Oakley,_ he reminded himself. _Jon is my son._

The bouncer was quick to stop him when he approached the door.

"Name?" he asked. The bouncer was a big, brutish man with a thick, ginger beard, a matching ponytail, and hazel eyes that nearly looked yellow. Overall, not the kind of guy you'd normally want to tangle with, but Adam could probably take him.

"Quinn Oakley."

The man raised an eyebrow, and looked over his shoulder at Jaune and Pyrrha. "Wasn't told you'd be bringing company, Mr. Oakley," he stated. "I'd have reserved spots for you."

Wait, _the bouncer_ was the fucking contact? What in the goddamn-

Adam mentally collected himself but luckily Pyrrha already seemed to be on the ball.

"Sorry sir, my father-in-law wanted to take us out on the town to celebrate our engagement... I figured he'd have made reservations for all three of us, but I guess mistakes were made." She gave probably the best 'Catholic School Chorus Girl’ look that Adam had ever seen (and he spoke from prior experience), and her voice took on a somewhat simpering tone. "I hope we haven't inconvenienced you."

The bouncer shook his head and gave the slightest smirk. Evidently, that worked for him. "Not at all, miss. Congratulations. Head right on in."

Adam couldn't help but be a little bit impressed himself. The door closed behind them, leaving them alone with the dimly-lit club-goers and the dull thumping of the rather monotonous, uninspired music, and Adam's attention turned to Pyrrha.

"Remind me to take you out more often. Where'd you learn to lie through your teeth like that?" he asked. Truth be told, the alibi for Pyrrha was supposed to be 'she happened to show up at the club the same time we did, no connection whatsoever,' but Pyrrha'd taken the 'Oakley' ball, and ran with it.

"When you're the center of attention, you learn to be very good at acting under pressure," she explained, with a sudden tonal shift that implied that there would be no further questions.

Well, she wouldn't catch him asking any.

"Alright, now for the plan," Adam began, turning to both of his charges one after the other. "Remember, if we get burnt, we break for it immediately with the VIP in tow. No stops, no brakes. I'm going to go find him, you two keep close by, but keep your ears open. If I tell you we're breaking and running, don't wait for me- head for the door. I'll meet you outside." Placing his hand to his ear, he turned on his comms. "Hit the green button to the right of the power button twice, it'll put you on my frequency."

Both Jaune and Pyrrha did so, and Adam got the slightest bit of feedback from the connection. Good, no technical errors to worry about.

"Right then." Adam buttoned his coat, making sure the pistols were completely concealed. The holster on the third piece scraped his leg uncomfortably inside his pants, but such was the cost of concealing a fucking revolver. "Don't do anything stupid, don't get drunk, and above all, blend in. Understood?"

"Got it," Jaune replied. Pyrrha nodded her agreement as well. While Adam had his doubts this would go smoothly, it was time to go to work.

"Right then. I'm gonna find our VIP. You two do what you need to do."

With that, the trio separated. Jaune and Pyrrha went to the floor, while Adam started searching for the VIP. The description was rather lackluster: African, early 60s, frequents the top floor overlook, the one with a rather nice view of the city skyline.

 _"Hey, Menace Lead, this is Gatekeeper,"_ came a sudden voice over the comms. The voice alone confirmed that Adam's suspicions were correct- the bouncer was indeed his inside man.

"Hey. What's going on?" Adam replied, trying to keep it casual and inconspicuous, in case someone nearby was listening.

_"VIP's inside, last I saw he was on the top floor, in the executive suites. You have a pass, but be advised, the VIP doesn't know about it, and will burn you if you let him walk before you get your intel."_

"He's not going to be _walking_ anywhere, Gatekeeper. I'll keep you posted, you're going to need to bug out once this gets nasty. If it does, that is."

_"Don't worry, I got my ears open."_

With that, Adam had an objective. Executive suites. Easy, easy, easy. He'd found his way into much tougher spots before, this would be no different. Weaving through the crowds was easy, and the walk up the stairs was no chore either, save for a few unrulies who were easily brought aside with a push here and a shove there. That was the only real difficulty with this walk, the rather large amount of stairs, and how packed they were. Four flights total, every step at least four-and-a-half meters wide, and at least twenty of them per flight. He wasn't expecting to get any cardio during this op, but it appeared that today was just going to be chock full of surprises.

The top floor came rather quickly, and Adam now turned his attention to the executive suite entrance. Two bouncers, one of whom was looking right at him and holding a PDA. This guy wasn't on his side, but he probably wouldn't deny Adam. Probably. And if he did, well, the revolver did have a suppressor option.

"I have a suite, under the name 'Oakley', he stated, looking at the bouncer, who immediately checked his PDA, a look of consternation on his face. He didn't seem pleased, and was only slightly mollified by the presence of Adam's- or rather, Quinn's- name on the list.

"Alright, it checks out, Mr. Oakley. You're in Suite 7."

"Alright then. Thanks, bruv."

The bouncer grunted his assent, and the other pushed open the doors. Adam stepped inside, the dim lighting of the club itself being replaced by a slightly brighter pale yellow pallor. Like the sun, if the sun was sick and about to drop dead from the sky. Suite 7 was right in front of him, and all too close to the door. Within hearing distance, for certain.

Adam walked up to the door, swiped his PDA over the door, opened it, and then slammed it shut. That would keep them off his case, all things being ideal. With that done, he now had a new problem to tackle- he had no name for the VIP, and no idea which suite he was in. It would be sort of suspicious to go knocking on all the doors. He put his hand up to his earpiece, and called the contact again.

"Gatekeeper, this is Menace. Do you have an ID on the VIP?"

_"No name, just his appearance."_

"Do you have his suite number?"

_"No. Check the registry panel by the door, it shows who's in each room."_

Adam looked at the door of his own room and noticed that a small holoprojector had popped out from the wall, presenting the suite number, the occupancy status (which, to Adam's frustration, showed that he wasn't in the room), and his alias. That might help him locate his man. Sure, he didn't have a name, but he did have one thing. The man was African. Unless he had an Americanized name, he was going to stick out like a sore thumb. It was almost impossible for two Africans to be in the executive suite of the exact same club at the exact same time, especially in a place like San Antonio.

Time to start looking.

Suite 6 was the next one down, had two occupants, and was owned by a Jonathan Rogers. Not likely his man. Suites 5 and 4 were empty. Suite 3 had an Adam Jones. When the novelty of the coincidence wore off Adam continued to Suite 2, which had an astonishing eight occupants in it, was loud enough to wake the dead, and was owned by a Martin Papdakis. That didn't sound African in the least. This left only Suite 1, which certainly stood out as a possible winner. There was a small hallway ahead before one got to Suite 1, and as Adam passed it, he noticed that it had a rather stunning view of the older part of town, including the place where the Alamo used to be. If the VIP liked a pretty view, this would be the place to find it.

Suite 1 was just ahead, and Adam went to check the registry panel. Instead of finding some random name, however, he ended up face to face with a ghost of his past.

_Iwabe Osajambo. Occupants: 1. Status: Occupied_

Iwabe. Fucking. Osajambo. There was no way in hell that Thunderbolt was the VIP, but... if he was alive, Adam had to know for sure.

He knocked on the door with one hand, while grabbing his revolver with the other. "Iwabe. It's me," he said, carefully. If he recognized his voice, then maybe-

The door swung open to a frantic-looking shadow of the Iwabe Adam used to know, weathered by age, with grey stubble and a completely barren head. This Iwabe was wearing a suit, with a bright yellow tie and a badge on his shirt that bore the ADVENT symbol. That detail alone would normally send Adam into a frothing rage, it only just registered in the back of his mind. Iwabe seemed to miss the fact that Adam was grabbing a gun, and instead seemed intent on looking into Adam's eyes with utter disbelief. They stayed like this for about a minute, just looking at each other in mutual shock, trying to pick their brains and figure out what the best thing to say was.

"Mr. Invincible didn't die after all, eh?", Iwabe finally said, breaking the silence for both of them.

"Would be a shite nickname if I didn't live up to my hype," Adam replied. "You're-"

"Yes, I know. It looks bad. Come, sit, we need to talk."

Adam's hand remained on his gun. "How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?"

"You don't, unfortunately. You'll just have to take it on faith." With that, Iwabe extended his hand. "Will you trust me?"

Although Adam's hand didn't move an inch away from his firearm, his free arm took the proffered hand with a tentative shake. Not that it made this any easier, but fuck if it wasn't the polite thing to do, shaking your friend's hand after a 30 year absence.

"No," Adam answered. "So you'd better get to talking, and fast."

* * *

 

Pyrrha was never the biggest fan of club atmospheres.

Having practically come of age in the spotlight, she often found herself doing everything in her power to cling to a fleeting illusion of privacy, and considering that she was often shadowed by paparazzi every time she left her home, she never went to any club or lounge unless it was for an official function related to sponsors, tournaments, award ceremonies, or the like. She’d much rather stay at home with her family, or read a book, or walk around the block, really just do literally anything else than go to a club. And now, here she was, with no choice but to loiter around in one until Adam either finished his business or lost his mind and shot up the place. Although Pyrrha was no expert on Adam, or really anyone in XCOM, she found the latter outcome to be much more plausible considering recent events. The man’s moods came and went as if they were tethered to a pendulum.  
  
Still, the club wasn’t all that bad. For one, nobody knew who she was here, which was a welcome change from the norm. There wouldn’t be any paparazzi or stalkers following her around. She had Jaune with her, which was… nice?  
  
Well, as nice as it could be, anyway. While she was more uncertain about aiding a group that, for all their righteous cause, apparently regularly performed acts of terrorism, Jaune seemed only able to keep up a front of strong leadership when XCOM had their eyes on him. Times like now, he seemed nervous, like he wasn’t sure what he was doing, if he was doing it right, or if he should even be doing it at all. Although she was doing all she could to help him, Pyrrha couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t enough.  
  
If only he knew how much she cared about him. Maybe that might help, although she wasn’t exactly sure of that. She assumed it would, at the very least.  
  
“I guess you’re having fun,” Jaune spoke up, barely audible over the din of the crowd and the music around them. It was obvious that ‘fun’ was the farthest thing from his mind right now just by the way he said it.  
  
“Oh, absolutely not,” she replied with a smile, a fruitless attempt to ease his obviously frayed nerves. “This isn’t really my ‘thing’.”  
  
“Well, what is your ‘thing?’” he asked.  
  
“Oh, you know…” Pyrrha shrugged, trying to cover up her nerves with a smirk. She highly doubted it was working- Jaune just seemed to have a way of putting her off her normal poise. “Privacy.”  
  
That got a slight chuckle out of Jaune, and Pyrrha chuckled along with him, even though she didn’t really think it was funny. Jaune leaned back against the wall behind him, bathed in the golden light from the club’s rather gaudy visual ambiance. With his already strikingly blonde hair, it almost looked like he was made of gold.  
  
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’d imagine that privacy’s refreshing when you’re… you know, famous.”  
  
“Oh, you have no idea. I couldn’t walk a single block from my house without someone stopping and asking me ‘excuse me, are you Pyrrha Nikos?’” Pyrrha leaned back against the wall next to him, watching the mingling crowd in front of them with a detached disinterest. “It got to a point where I just never left home on my own unless I had obligations.”  
  
“I imagine that wasn’t any fun.”  
  
“Absolutely not. I’m glad that period is behind me. People still know who I am in Vale, but it seems they’re content to leave me alone.”  
  
Jaune didn’t have a reply to that, seeming to focus on something a bit further off, something outside of the club, maybe even outside of this city.  
  
“Are you alright, Jaune?” she asked.  
  
“Worried. Just worried,” he replied.  
  
“I am, too. We’ll be okay, though, I know that much.”  
  
“Yeah.” Jaune didn’t sound too convinced. In an uncharacteristic display of bravery, stupidity, or a little bit of both, Pyrrha’s hand unconsciously drifted over to his arm, settling awkwardly on his wrist.  
  
_Oh, now you’ve done it, Pyrrha Nikos, you went to do something stupid and now you somehow look even stupider-_

That train of thought was rapidly derailed by the feeling of Jaune’s hand shifting to grip her own.  
  
_Never mind._

“So, um… about the whole club thing,” Jaune started, not making any move to extricate his hand from Pyrrha’s grasp, which was a… it was a _thing_ , certainly, Pyrrha wouldn’t call it a _sign_ but it was something. “Standing against the wall is cool and all, but do you want to, uh… like, I know you said you weren’t that comfortable with the atmosphere and all so if you wanted to kinda… move somewhere less crowded, I guess? Also, upstairs is a little bit closer to Adam, so it’s kind of a win-win situation if you think-”  
  
“Sure,” Pyrrha interrupted, trying to save him from his nervous rambling. “I saw some seats up on one of the second floor balconies, we could sit down for a minute while we wait for him to finish his business.” She appreciated the concern, but if standing against the wall with her hand in his for an hour was required of her, she’d have agreed in a heartbeat. Still, sitting down was certainly a welcome invitation.

* * *

 

 

“Sit, sit, sit. We haven’t spoken in almost 21 years, Adam, surely you have enough time to sit,” Iwabe implored, taking a seat himself in a plush, gaudy recliner that faced parallel to the window, giving him an uninterrupted view of the city if he turned his head. However, all of his focus was on Adam. “You won’t be staying long, anyway, I imagine.”  
  
To his credit, Adam figured this would look mighty suspicious and threatening to him too, if the situations were reversed and a paranoid-looking Iwabe came beating down his door.

Adam wasn’t about to sit just yet. His hand remained on his pistol as he walked towards the seat, eventually settling on leaning against the window, pulling his sidearm up from his waistband just enough to make it known that he had it. He didn’t trust Iwabe, how could he? He could barely trust himself, and now here comes one of his oldest friends, with an ADVENT badge. What was he supposed to do? Just accept that this is the way the world is now?  
  
“What are you doing here?” Adam asked.  
  
“Making preparations. There’s an important… _individual_ … who has a vested interest in the goings on of a terrorist organization that seems to be spreading out across the eastern United States. I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about that, Adam.” Iwabe’s tone was… morose. It sounded like speaking hurt him. Like it caused him pain to even try and reconcile the men he and Adam had been with the men they were now.  
  
“I dunno. I’ve figured out a lot of things, lately, Iwabe,” Adam stated cooly, trying not to let his own hurt leak out into his voice. He couldn’t show weakness here. “Why? Why are you working with ADVENT?”  
  
“You know I have a family, Adam. You didn’t, so maybe you will not understand, but if they had asked me to surrender the Earth itself with my own two hands so that my family may be safe… I would likely have done it,” Iwabe explained, turning his attention to the window. “And now look what I have to show for it. I am a comfortable man. My wife and children are healthy and cared for, and I have all that I could ask for. And yet, I am still not free. I am watched wherever I go. I have no doubt that I am being watched right now, speaking to a wanted man.”  
  
“Aye. Some people’d say that you got what you earned.” Adam’s grip on his pistol loosened, and he put more of his weight against the window. It was a hell of an effort to stand, for some reason. The whole conversation, the whole aura of the room felt physically _heavy_ , like the air was made of lead.  
  
“I would say that I got far less. In the old world, the punishment for treason was far worse. But here I am, a regular Vikund Quisling… Why are _you_ here, Adam. Unless you have been stalking me for quite a while, I don’t imagine you’re just here to chat.”  
  
“I’m supposed to be beating the hell out of you for information about the Chosen, and the ADVENT Penitentiary just southeast of town.”  
  
“Ah, yes.” Iwabe paused for a moment, taking a slow, deep breath in as he mulled over what to say. “ I can tell you about both.”  
  
Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “Can you, now?”  
  
“The ‘Chosen’, as you call her. Jax-Hur Masha. I do not know what she is, only what she does,” Iwabe explained, turning away from the window. “She is a killer. Far above ADVENT’s jurisdiction, she silences those who have proven too much of a threat to our operations.”  
  
“And who is she hunting now?” Adam asked. “Is she in the area?”  
  
“If I tell you, she will be hunting you, next. I am already a dead man, Adam. I was dead the moment you walked into this room.”  
  
Adam frowned. “You can walk out of it with me. I know people that can help you.”  
  
“And for how long? With this chip in my head, I am but a ticking time bomb.” He tapped the back of his head for emphasis. Adam had seen the scars on the back of Tygan’s skull, so it did little to faze him.  
  
“We have a man who can remove them.”  
  
“The moment I am out of ADVENT’s reach, it will be too late to stop them from following us. There is no escape for me, Adam. I now reap the fate of traitors.”  
  
“You sound awfully resigned to say you used to be bloody Thunderbolt, Iwabe. Where’s the fuckin’ fight?” Adam demanded, drawing his pistol and closing the distance between them, slamming his gun hand against the window. “You were the fastest bastard I knew, and you were one of the best of us. You were never shaken, never rattled, and you always kept forging ahead, no matter what, even to the bitter fuckin’ end. Now that I’m giving you a chance to make things right, you’re just going to sit in this fucking chair and wait for ADVENT to come and kill you?”  
  
“Not ADVENT, Adam. Do you really think the bartender knew how to contact Central Officer Bradford?” Iwabe smiled, a sad affair that barely reached the eyes. “Here, here, we don’t have much time.” Opening his coat, he reached into one of the pockets and pulled out a PDA. “The SIM is removed, and all software has been wiped save for the data I have been able to collect about Jax-Hur and her ilk, as well as the prison facility. You will likely only have a day or two to move on the prison before security is too tight for you to attack it. I pray that you are prepared before then.”  
  
Adam took the device, putting it in his pocket. “Thanks, Iwabe. So… what are you going to do now?”  
  
“Wait. I have an appointment, you see.” Iwabe checked his watch, before looking back out the window. “Right about…”  
  
Suddenly, Adam could hear sirens.  
  
“Now.”  
  
_Guess this is it, then._ Adam knew he had to get the kids and bolt, right now, before ADVENT cut off his exits. Still… he couldn’t just leave Iwabe here. They had been friends, a long time ago. He could still do some good, even if it was only as an infobroker.  
  
“Iwabe, you can come with me. We move around constantly, there’s plenty of time to dispose of the bloody chip.”  
  
“I do not want the Chosen to start following you, Adam, because if she does, then you are a dead man.” With that, Iwabe stood up, adjusting his tie. “Who all is left of Strike One?”  
  
Adam backed off the wall, and forced his revolver back into its holster, noting an involuntary tremor in his hand. _It’s the genetics. I’m not losin’ it. Not yet._  “Me,” he replied. “Ezekiel just came back, but it’s a long story on his end. Of course, Central’s there too. Shen’s daughter’s our chief engineer now.”  
  
“I always knew An-Yi was a smart girl,” Iwabe noted with a chuckle. “Have you found Vahlen? Big Sky?”  
  
“Disappeared, both. You know what happened to Raymond.”  
  
“Ah, I see.” Iwabe looked out of the window one last time, and this time, Adam looked after him, noting the approaching lights at street level. ADVENT Interceptors. “Do send Ezekiel and Central my regards. I am glad you three are well.”  
  
Adam felt something. He wasn’t sure if it was sorrow, or nerves, or fear, but he felt something, and he wasn’t sure he was going to stop feeling it when he left this room. He’d have to sit down for a while when he got back to the Avenger, he knew that much.  
  
“Good luck, Iwabe,” was all he could think to say. _Not that luck’s gonna do you any good now, you sorry bastard._  
  
“The same to you, Mr. Invincible. Quickly now, you need to be leaving the premises before ADVENT gets here.”

* * *

 

“—and so now they’re throwing the bouquet, and like I told you before, I have a _huuuuuuuuge_ family, so everybody’s practically throwing themselves over each other to grab it, except for me, because I’m trying not to get run over by my aunts or my older sisters, so of course, the stupid thing lands on my head. Before I can even react, though, my sister Peony, I kid you not, _throws me to the ground_ and grabs the—”  
  
Pyrrha had rather enjoyed Jaune’s story about the last time he’d been at any sort of large party, specifically his sister’s wedding. Alas, it seemed that a simple human moment on this ‘Earth’ was rather impossible, as Adam was blasting commands into her ear within seconds.  
  
_“We’ve been compromised, but we got what we came for. Meet me at the back door, we’re bailing the fuck out of here NOW!”_

“Oh, jeez…” Jaune muttered, resigned. “So, what? We make a run for it, or keep it cool?”  
  
Suddenly, three gunshots rang out in rapid succession from the floor above them.  
  
“I think running would seem rather innocuous,” Pyrrha replied, grabbing Jaune by the wrist again and taking off at a dead run. Being as she was on the bigger, more athletic side of women in general, and evidently on a similar level compared to Earth women, she was able to bull her way through the now-panicking crowd with ease, her iron grip on Jaune keeping them tethered in spite of the wave of humanity around them. Some people were screaming, the music had turned off, and now Pyrrha could clearly hear sirens. _That back door had better be close._  
  
Conveniently for her, the bouncer from before was weaving through the crowd himself, and just so happened to notice her. Just her luck.  
  
“The back door is this way!” he called out, motioning for her and Jaune to follow. It was a tough trip—more people seemed to take his invitation than just her, but they made it out all the same. The back door led to a rather wide alley, and Pyrrha rapidly started looking for convenient exits they could hide in, finally settling on the alley behind another nearby business.  
  
“Adam,” she called over the comms, “we’re going to the second alley on the right when you go through the back door! We’ll wait for you there!”  
  
_“Got it! Central, we need our bloody Evac NOW!”_ _  
__  
__“Copy that, Menace Lead, I’ve got Firebrand scrambling now. ETA two minutes. Send her the best extraction point you can find.”_  
  
_“Tell her to hurry up, we don’t have two minutes!”_ _  
__  
_ Pyrrha pushed her way through the last remnants of the crowd into the aforementioned alley, finally out of danger for the moment. Another gunshot ringing out from the club suddenly and violently dispossessed her of that idea.  
  
“That sounds like Adam’s gun,” Jaune noted. “I’m guessing the law caught up before he could sneak out.”  
  
“Oh, wonderful, our escort _kills police officers_ ,” Pyrrha groaned. “I had concerns, and now I’m being shown that these concerns are—”  
  
**“FUCKING MOPPETS, THE LOT OF YOU,** ** _FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!”_** came the heavily accented voice of Adam from the back of the club, before a few people went fleeing out of the door, followed by a single gunshot that slammed into the metal building just behind the club with a loud **ding**. Adam stepped out, revolver in hand, with a look of rage contorting his features.  
  
No, rage wasn’t the right word for it. Pyrrha wasn’t sure there was a word for the sheer, unadulterated _hate_ in this man’s eyes, but hate seemed to fit it well enough.  
  
“Adam!” she called out, her voice unintentionally cracking. She wasn’t scared of that look, but it certainly caught her off guard. The man was usually angry when they met, but she’d never seen him quite this angry. It only proved her own point—the man had far from Team JNPR’s best interests in mind, and if he ever turned that look on any of them, he wouldn’t be looking at anything again.

  
Adam’s head snapped towards her, and his face softened, if only a little. “I got clipped, and there’s at least six ADVENT on my arse, let’s go!” With that, he took off at a dead sprint and rounded the corner next to Pyrrha, not even bothering to hand over the guns. Not enough time, she supposed. She took off after him, still keeping a firm hold on Jaune’s arm until she realized that yes, he was running after them, and yes, he could probably manage it on his own.  
  
“Firebrand, this is Menace, do you have my location!?” Adam shouted.  
  
_“Confirmed, Menace, I got you on the scope. Where do you want your pickup?”_ the pilot answered.  
  
“Anywhere but fucking here!” he shouted again, turning a corner so hard that it made Pyrrha’s ankles sore just watching.  
  
_“Gee, that sure is specific. See you across the state line!”_

“Alright, listen here-” Adam started, halfway reaching to rip his comms out of his ear, as if that would do anything to help the situation.  
  
_“It’s a fucking joke. I’m gonna set ‘er near the big bank about three-hundred meters ahead of your position. There’s a gas station right next to it, you should be able to find a ladder or something to get up there. If not, I’ll meet you at street level. I’m on my way!”_ _  
_ _  
_ “Thank fucking Christ you’re good for something. Menace out!”  
  
With that, comms were silent yet again, and Adam barreled ahead, at a speed that even Pyrrha was having to work to keep up with. She was surprised Jaune was keeping up so well. It was encouraging to know that her cardio was helping somewhat. Three-hundred meters was probably only about two minutes of running, non-stop, by her calculations.  
  
After just forty meters, however, they were forced to stop by a pillar of purple light.  
  
Pyrrha thought she was starting to get accustomed to strange things happening in her life ever since that rift in the air opened in the Emerald Forest, but now she was starting to doubt that was the case.  
  
“Oh, son of a bitch! Not this again- kids, get fucking moving!”  
  
**“None of you are going anywhere, I’m afraid,”** rasped _something_ from the purple light, which rapidly dissipated to reveal a tall, skinny entity, at least 7 feet tall, with grey-purple skin, black and red armor, and a rather large blade on its back.  
  
“Especially not you, ‘Adam Jones’. You survived our last meeting through luck. And now, you only have two _children_ to defend you.”  
  
_I don’t have time for this_ , Pyrrha thought. Every second we spend stalling is another second ‘ADVENT’ can spend catching up to us.  
  
She tried to see if she could feel her Aura. It was barely present, but present all the same. It would have to do.  
  
Whatever ‘it’ was, drew its blade. It was now or never.

As Adam threw open his coat and reached for a second handgun, Pyrrha charged. Although she was unarmed, from what she had seen at the impromptu CQC session, the beings of Earth and its neighbors seemed to be a bit more frail than people from Remnant. Tall and well-armored this thing might be, but Pyrrha Nikos was 5’11” and 149 pounds of muscle. She had taken down far bigger, and far more intimidating opponents before. If a Death Stalker couldn’t kill her, then this certainly wouldn’t.  
  
Pyrrha lowered herself so that the point of impact was around the humanoid’s solar plexus, aiming to catch her with the front of her shoulder and proceed to knock it out. Unfortunately, she gravely overestimated the weight of this entity and its preparedness for such a brazen attack. She felt the sword bite into her aura around her neck, but it was of no consequence when both Pyrrha and said entity were flying a good few feet back from where she’d made contact- far enough, in fact, that she was unable to get a grip on her target before they hit the ground, leading Pyrrha to roll to a halt about two feet away from her target, who was scrambling to its feet with a look of shock, wheezing for breath.  
  
“What in the Elder’s Name-”  
  
“No Elders here, you fucking TWAT!” Adam shouted, coming out from the corner of Pyrrha’s vision with a revolver in one hand and a handgun in the other, both pointing at the entity on the ground. With his opinions on the enemy now clear, he unloaded both of his handguns, neither of which seemed to kill this thing, considering it kicked him rather harshly in the groin and sprung up to its feet as Pyrrha rose to hers.  
  
“Jaune!” Pyrrha called out, before rushing back in. The entity grabbed its blade, and swung at her, barely missing as Pyrrha lunged to one side, ending up slightly behind it as she continued to advance, forcing the creature to turn its body one way while turning its head towards Jaune. Meanwhile, Adam was still in the fight, pouncing on the thing’s leg and grabbing a firm hold with the crooks of his arm as Jaune prepared to throw a right hook at it. Perhaps recognizing that this was no ordinary punch compared to its usual quarry, it ducked, only to be sent down to the concrete as Pyrrha leapt into the air and thrusted her left leg down, stomping down on its head.  
  
“MOVE!” Adam shouted as he released his grip, and scrambled to his feet, and resumed running as he holstered his revolver inside his jacket and grabbed the pistol intended for Jaune, aiming back over his shoulder in the direction of the still- dazed thing. Pyrrha and Jaune immediately took his advice, sprinting full-bore after Adam.  
  
It wasn’t much farther to their destination, and the Skyranger—as Pyrrha had heard it called—was rapidly approaching them. Still, Pyrrha knew whatever it was would be following them, and turned around to confirm that, indeed, it had been, now holding some sort of rifle while its sword remained on its back.  
  
“XCOM may have found new tricks, but they will not save you from me!” it shouted.  
  
“Oh, BUGGER OFF!” Adam shouted back, stepping in front of Pyrrha and firing a few shots at it, which it effortlessly juked before raising to fire at Adam. Instinct took over, and Pyrrha grabbed Adam by the arm and yanked him backwards with enough force to send him sprawling, as the thing fired its rifle. ‘Rifle’, as it turned out, was a misnomer, though- it was a _laser shotgun._  
  
_If this is what XCOM has to face on a daily basis, no wonder some of them desperately want our help._ _  
_ _  
_ The spread of shots slammed into Pyrrha’s shoulder, as she’d ended up casting herself into the path of the blast in her attempt to move Adam out of the way. Her Aura broke instantly, and once again she felt searing pain in her shoulder, and an unmistakable burn and throb just above her hip. She’d taken a big hit, but her Aura would be back eventually. If that had hit Adam, the best case scenario would have been severe injuries.  
  
She didn’t earn the name ‘Invincible Girl’ without taking a few cuts and bruises after all. This would pass.  
  
The thing lowered its weapon, and slowed to a halt, surprising Pyrrha. It had the advantage now, so why would it stop?  
  
“Such an attack would have killed a normal human… what are you, girl?” it asked.  
  
“Why don’t you come over here, and find out?” she replied, clenching her fists and assuming a combat stance. She’d have to dodge the next shot, now that she had no Aura to protect-  
  
Was this thing dropping its gun?  
  
“I admire your spark, even if it will lead to your demise, child…” it stated, discarding the gun in favor of the sword that had been sheathed within. “You fight well. I will give you a warrior’s death. What is your name?”  
  
“My name is Nikki Pearce.” _I’d rather not have this thing knowing my real name._  
  
“I am Jax-Hur, of the Elder’s Chosen. Now, child, it is time for you to enter their embrace!”  
  
With that, it rushed forward, leading with the blade and aiming to stab Pyrrha through the heart. A telegraphed attack, but one that left room for correction if Pyrrha dodged- it was more to test the waters than to kill. Pyrrha hopped to the left, the wound in her side protesting enough that her leg buckled on the initial landing. Jax-Hur was almost inhumanly fast, faster than Pyrrha, even, rapidly pivoting to take a swing at her that Pyrrha was only just able to lean out of the way of.  
  
She could hear Jaune saying something behind them, and Adam forcing himself to his feet to intervene, the latter coming back into view by leaping at Jax-Hur boot-first. The kick caught the strange being in the jaw, sending it spinning to face back away from Pyrrha, who took advantage of the opportunity to throw a savage kick of her own, a side piston kick that visibly cranked Jax-Hur’s neck.  
  
It wasn’t enough to kill, though, and as much as the very idea of murdering another sentient being curdled Pyrrha’s blood, it seemed that was what had to be done.  
  
Jax-Hur collected itself and readied its blade again, stepping back slowly and eyeing both Adam and Pyrrha. Pyrrha looked at her companion, who had thrown off his jacket to reveal a plain white t-shirt that exposed dimly-lit orange veins in his arms. There was something disturbingly _off_ about that, but this was not a time to ask questions.  
  
“You’re banged up. Go,” Adam ordered.  
  
“I’m fine,” she replied, and despite the searing pain in her leg, she was. This was nothing. She was trained to suffer through far worse pain than this.  
  
The growl that he replied with was more animal than human, but Adam charged ahead anyway, sliding under a swing from Jax-Hur’s blade to try and take out its leg, only for the strange being to hurdle over him. Pyrrha was quick to capitalize, charging in and throwing an uppercut that, much to her annoyance and very prominent pain, was answered by a swing of the sword that carved deep into the back of her hand, almost bone deep. Behind Jax-Hur, Adam had drawn his gun, and was loading a single bullet into the chamber.  
  
With that, Pyrrha understood what had to be done.  
  
As Adam braced himself, Pyrrha went back in again, ducking under a sword swipe to throw a punch at Jax-Hur’s gut with her uninjured hand, one that stiffened the ‘Chosen’s’ legs and staggered it just enough for Pyrrha to follow up with a knee to the jaw, and another piston kick that sent it stumbling back into the waiting Adam, who rose and wrapped his unoccupied arm around its neck, while pressing the gun to its temple.  
  
“Sweet dreams, you ayy samurai CUNT.”  
  
And with a bang, it was over, the bullet exploding from the other side of Jax-Hur’s head with a torrent of metallic yellow blood. Adam threw the lifeless corpse to the ground, and spit on it.  
  
“Pyrrha, are you okay?” Jaune asked, finally coming up from behind her. Turning to look at him, it gave her no end of relief that he was unharmed, save for being a bit red in the face from having to break away that fast.  
  
“I’m a little banged up, but my Aura will fix the damage,” she replied, with as much of a smile as she could muster considering that what had just happened made her physically ill. For someone that was practically raised with a sword in her hand, death wasn’t very appealing to her. Now turning her attention to the _other_ blonde, she looked back at Adam, and couldn’t stop herself from **flinching** at the look in his eyes.  
  
The look he had focused on Jaune.  
  
“Evac’s here! All aboard, motherfuckers, I’m not sticking around for that thing’s entourage!” Firebrand shouted over comms, mercifully drawing Adam’s gaze away from Jaune for the moment.  
  
Deep down, Pyrrha knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. Mainly because she and Adam Jones were about to have some rather severe words, whenever they got out of this life-threatening situation.

 

 


	18. Operation: Touchdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy, Ren, and Nora do some exploring together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways, here's Wonderwall- I mean, a new chapter
> 
> HOLY SHIT 100K WORDS.

**ADVENT Correction Facility "Gridiron"**

**12:32 AM**

**Formerly Port Lavaca, Texas**

 

 

 _You know, as far as places go, this 'Texas' isn't so bad_.  _Sure, it's really warm and really, REALLY dry, and everything is kinda dead, but at least it's a pretty, clear evening!_

_Oh, and Ren!_

_And Murphy too, I guess, he seems nice enough. Kinda like how you'd think a dad to act, like, stern most of the time but also friendly and stuff. He kinda looks like a TV show dad, too, with the beard and the cigar._

_Wow, I sure am bored right now. Are we gonna actually do anything here?_

The small plateau they'd taken up position on was dead silent, save for the wind passing by, and the distant sounds of the prison that loomed over them. It was scary-looking, sure, but it was probably the least-secure looking jail Nora'd ever seen. There was only one building, for one. No gates, just some low barriers and a few cameras. Every once in a while, a guard would walk into view, but other than that? It was a tiny little jail that looked like something out of a thriller movie set in Atlas.  
_  
_ "Hey, uh, Murphy?" she asked, trying to keep her voice down. "When are we going in?"

"Shh," Murphy admonished her, his voice practically a whisper. "Fuck's sake, you're loud as a fuckin' jet engine. We're waitin' for the guard rotation."

The sun was out in force and Nora found herself hiding on the other side of the rock Murphy was leaning against to get out of the heat. Ren seemed fine where he was, under a dead tree and trying to take something resembling a power nap. Or meditating. Nora never knew which, and whenever she assumed, it was always the opposite of what she guessed.

"So, uh… Murphy?" Nora started, looking up over her shoulder to the man on the rock, who seemed more focused on his cigar than the prison he was supposed to be watching.

"Yeah?"

"What did this guy do to end up in jail?"

Murphy sighed, looking up at the prison and giving it a quick once over. "He wanted to be free."

"Whaddya mean?" Nora didn't quite get it. What was so wrong with wanting to be a free person?

Murphy turned on his seat, and looked down at Nora. She noted that he looked rather forlorn, as if he didn't really want to be talking about this. "Mox, the guy we're rescuing, is an ADVENT. Kinda like the guys you've been helping us fight. Now, most of the ADVENT are under the mind control of the Elders - aliens in charge of the occupation of our planet. But Mox found a way out of it. He tried to help us out and got caught."

"Oh. So, yeah, we gotta bust him out quick then."

"Yeah," Murphy agreed. "We do."

The big man stopped for a second, still looking at Nora, though now he looked more concerned than upset. "Oi, Nora?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you… I 'unno, feel like something was forcing you to agree to come along with me?"

"No, of course not! You're helping us, and we're helping you! Why wouldn't I agree?" Nora asked. Really, she saw it as a simple question with a simple answer. There wasn't any reason to say no.

"It's not that, it's just… well, I'll explain another time. Let me put it this way- I want you to do what makes you happy, and what gets you home the fastest. There are people in XCOM who want what makes  _them_  happy and wins the war the fastest - you going home being optional."

Nora frowned. Most of the XCOM folk had been friendly to JNPR, but she had noticed a few of them were either cagey, ready for them to go away, or a bit  _too_ eager to have them around. She wanted to help, she really did, but going home was their top priority. Wasn't it?

"Yeah, well the way I see it, as long as we're here, we'll help you," Nora explained. "If that means we're only here for one more day, or for a year, as much as I wouldn't really wanna stay that long, but if that's what it takes then I'll do it! I'll give ya all I've got regardless." She gave Murphy the biggest smile she could muster, and a thumbs up.

Murphy didn't exactly smile back, but the tiny twitch of the lips and the look in his eyes made it clear that he appreciated it.

All of the sudden, the big earpiece in her ear started giving Nora static, and Murphy looked rather pissed. "Ah, fu-"

 _"Hey, Hitman Lead, we've uh… had a SLIGHT change of plans,"_ came the voice of the pilot lady from earlier- Firebrand, or something like that.  _"I'm coming in for a pickup now. Menace says we have to hit the facility ASAP. Get whatever you can on the scope and bug the fuck out, I'll be there in 5."_

"The hell's goin' on, Firebrand?" Murphy asked, removing his cigar from his mouth and blowing a long trail of smoke. He looked pretty upset about being called. "We've barely even gotten a good view of the place."

_"Turns out we're already burnt. As soon as we get back to the Avenger, Bradford wants us stacking up a team to hit the prison."_

"We could hit it right now for all that effort," Murphy replied, returning his cigar and sagging with a look of sheer mental exhaustion _._  Nora felt like he knew something she didn't right now, which, to be fair, summed up how she felt about a lot of these Earth people. "You know what? Sod it. Tell Bradford I'm goin' in."

_"Murph, I'm not sure that's the best idea-"_

"What could possibly go-"

_"DON'T! Even fucking start! I'm gonna loiter over the area but you better hurry up and get our guy out of there, if you're really going through with this!"_

"Oh, I am," Murphy assured her, looking at Ren, then at Nora. "You two fancy a little scrap?"

"Pardon?" Ren asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I said do you want a fuckin' fight?"

"Not parti-" Ren started, only to be cut off by-

"AWWWWWWW YEAH!" Nora shouted, causing both of her companions to physically recoil. "JAILBREAK!"

"Is she always this excited?" Murphy asked.

"Usually," Ren replied.

Murphy let out a ragged groan as he stood up, revving the motor of his chaingun-  _that has got to be the coolest weapon I've seen since I got here!-_ and turning to Nora. "How many grenades do you have left?"

"Taaa-wentyfiiiiive!" she replied with a grin that seemed to only make Murphy look more put-off than he had been already.  _Does he not like smiling, or something?_

"Save as many as you can. You're gonna blow open walls and break any turrets that catch us off-guard. Ren, you're with me. Trigger discipline, people- you don't have much spare ammo."

"You got it!" Nora agreed, spinning Magnhild in her hands excitedly. She hadn't gotten to give anything a good whack in a  **minute** _._

* * *

 

 

It wasn't easy to scare a six-and-a-half foot tall Aussie built like a brick shithouse with 11 years of military experience, but Nora Valkyrie had managed to intimidate Murphy something fierce. He couldn't help but respect that a little bit, along with fearing the wrath of that  _fuck huge_ hammer.

_I need me one of those._

The approach to the prison was a massive killzone - as soon as they were spotted they'd be sitting ducks - so Murphy knew that they'd have to act fast.

Ren started running first, leaping off the high ground and landing just short of a dead run towards the prison. Nora followed, moving faster than Murphy could on his BEST day. Still, he had to try, so off he went, sliding down a nearby embankment to end up on the ground, and taking off running. Being as he was the biggest and by far the most recognizable of the three of them- what, being the one who was on wanted posters and all- he figured he could make himself useful one way. Covering fire. One thing he'd learned in SOER was how to hit hard, fast.

The turrets around the prison spotted Ren first, and the ADVENT guards were rapidly converging on the side of the prison where they'd be making their entry. A few were already in the prison yard, readying their weapons.

_Prison's tall. Full alien alloy walls, embrasures stick out a good few feet from the main building, too thick for bullets to pierce. Definitely thick enough to stop shrapnel._

Murphy clipped his massive chaingun to his lower back, and drew his grenade launcher, checking the first chamber.

Frag. Perfect.

Whipping his grenade launcher around to face the prison wall, he measured the distance by eye- no time to get a proper range. "One- one thousand… two- one thousand… three- one thousand… four."

With that, he fired, and the grenade sailed through the air in a high and long arc across the yard towards the prison, rapidly descending towards a group of guards that were beginning to fire on Ren. The grenade detonated a second away from hitting the ground, erupting at about ADVENT head level in a wave of air and blackish-red smoke, as intended. Murphy was bad at many things, but geometry? Not likely.

"Can't handle me, you fuckin' pikers," he muttered, hoisting the launcher over his shoulder and grabbing his chaingun again. He still had quite a bit of running left to do. A few ADVENT were left standing after his grenade stunt, but Ren and Nora made quick work of them, with Ren quite literally dropkicking one through a window, while Nora simply threw herself hammer first into a pair of 'em and gave them a sound wallop with the hammer, sending them both flying into the wall with a resounding  **thunk**.

"Wait!" Murphy called out, attempting to get the much faster children to slow down. He didn't like getting left behind, reminded him too much of how things used to be. Back when he wasn't fast enough to stop the world from falling to pieces right in front of his eyes. Thank God they heard him.

"Fuck, you two are fast," Murphy said, stopping to catch his breath for a second.

"You're just slow!" Nora countered, drawing an exasperated sigh (and a little bit of a smile) from Murphy.

"Alright," the old vet began, pointing at the window that Ren had so kindly bitch-kicked an ADVENT through, "this is-"

"Hey, watch out!" Nora called out, throwing her hammer out spike-first and crooking Murphy like he was a vaudeville sideshow man, and pulling him against the wall just as a hail of magnetic fire smacked into the ground where he'd been standing. Murphy's eyes followed the trail up to a turret, which was now looking straight down at them.

Which was answered with a loud report from a grenade launcher and promptly exploded in a cloud of pink smoke and orange flames. When Murphy turned to see the source, Nora just smiled, her hammer now back in grenade launcher form and smoking from the barrel.

_I REALLY need one of those. NOW. Note to self- bug Tygan for 'em._

"Thank you, El-"

Wrong Nora.

"-Nora. Appreciate it." Murphy gave a weak half-smile that he absolutely knew wasn't convincing anyone.

Nora smiled back. "So, what's the plan?"

Murphy pressed the back of his head against the wall and cut his eyes at the window. "As I was SAYING, this is our point of entry. Get inside and watch my back while I crack into the cell block and get the doors open. Once we get in, I'll pick 'im up, and send for evac on the roof. Keep. Me. Covered. I can't shoot my cannon and hold up Mox at the same time."

"Right-o!" Nora replied.

"You can count on us," Ren followed. Murphy didn't doubt it, at least in Ren's case- he'd seen and heard Lawrence's glowing testimony to the boy's competence.

Murphy nodded before taking a few steps back and lining up with the window. "If that's the case, then follow me!" He took off into a sprint, leaping through the broken window and somehow landing on his feet right next to Ren's half-conscious ADVENT victim. Ren followed him through the window, rolling to a knee gracefully next to him, while Nora tumbled a bit more awkwardly after them, landing right next to the ADVENT's gun, which she immediately went to grab away from the ADVENT goon reaching for it.

Murphy'd seen enough unlucky Resistance idiots doing that. The electrical charge on the biometric scanner was enough to kill a man his size TWICE. "Nora, wait-"

Too late. Nora grabbed a firm hand around the trigger guard, and took a nice, long zap. Ren looked… oddly unconcerned, which served only to make Murphy even more concerned himself.

Murphy immediately grabbed the poor girl by her shoulders and yanked her off the gun, before drawing his pistol and putting a round through the head of the slowly-rising ADVENT, who had intended to capitalize on Nora's error. Much to Murphy's shock, Nora stood right up with a smile on her face, looking perkier than usual.

Nothing else looked right, though. Nora had a char on her cheek, neck, and wrist, and the hand that had been grabbing the gun looked outright  _scalded,_ already starting to crack and blister around the thumb. Yet Nora seemed perfectly fine with this.

"You should be dead." Murphy stated. He wanted to scream it, grab the girl by the arm and get her to the nearest medical facility, but he knew that wasn't an option anymore.

_"Pop, it burns! IT BURNS!"_

_"SOMEONE GET ME SOME BLEEDIN' WATER! SOME FUCKIN'! WATER!"_

Murphy ripped his gaze away from the arm, and from Nora, instead pretending to busy himself observing the walls.   
  
"Nah! Semblance! I can absorb electricity!" Nora explained. "I'll be real, I kinda wasn't sure if it was working right, but I guess it is… my head hurts."

Murphy's worries only grew. These kids were really, REALLY something else, weren't they? He'd get Nora looked at later, he had a job to do. Looking around the cell block, he noticed that the cells before him were completely empty, and that there was a hallway that lead to a main terminal, an exit, and another wing of cells, it seemed. Mox must be over there.

"Ren, Nora. Watch that door, right there. I'm grabbing our man."

Nora and Ren ran off to do so, the former very noticeably stumbling and failing to keep up with Ren, while Murphy went for the opposite cell block, already noting that the cells here were much, much worse. Most of them were the same size as the others, but they were obviously… recently occupied. One of them had the door open, and when Murphy passed it, he took note of a woman sitting against the wall with a hole in her head the size of his fist. The last cell caught his attention in a different, more positive way. The cell was large, wide, and had nothing in it save for a few screens and something lying on the floor. That, and blood. Lots of blood. Yellowish blood, like ADVENT blood.

_Wait, what the fuck am I thinking?_

This must be Mox's cell. Murphy approached the door, noting that the security on this door was the tightest he'd ever seen on anything in his time dealing with ADVENT. He wasn't sure he'd be able to crack it.

Not by hacking, anyway.

Taking a few steps back, Murphy pulled his grenade launcher back up off his back, aimed for the grates on the right side of the cell, and fired. Now he was halfway out of grenades on an op that would probably need quite a few of them, but it seemed to have worked- there was a nice, big, smoking hole in the grating. He heard something on the other end, possibly their man stirring, but he couldn't be sure.

"I'm on your side, Moxxie my lad, come on! Let's get you movin'!" Murphy called out, hopping through the hole in the grate and walking over to the Skirmisher and hoisting him over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He got no response- poor bastard must have gotten the tar kicked out of him, what with all the blood around the cell. Back out the cell they went, towards the exit.

Ren and Nora were waiting behind the door, magnetic fire searing the air between them as ADVENT seemed intent on shooting the holy hell out of the computer desk. Murphy almost wanted to laugh at how stupid it looked. However, he had more pressing matters- Nora's upbeat demeanor had gone, and now the girl was down on one knee, eyes unfocused, holding her head.

"Oi, she alright!?" Murphy shouted over the din of mag fire.

"I don't know, I think it may have something to do with our Aura malfunctioning!" Ren replied.

Nora didn't respond, at least not verbally. The last time Murphy'd seen that look on someone, it had been when Jerry got his head rocked by that ADVENT turret back in Julian's tower. Jerry had taken a bullet to the head and gotten a severe concussion. Nora hadn't even been hit by anything, just gotten the…

 _Oh, fuck._  
  
"We need to get out of here, and get her to the med team. She's fuckin' fried!"

"What?" Ren asked, turning to look at Murphy. Murphy had never seen him anything other than composed before, so the harried, utterly terrified look on his face served only to set Murphy more ill at ease.

"I said we're gettin' her out of here! You think you can carry this guy?" Murphy motioned to the big ADVENT defector on his shoulder, before grabbing his grenade launcher with his free hand.

Ren nodded. "I can try!"

"Right then, let's do this! Stay behind me!" With that, Murphy motioned Ren over, and heaved the big guy off of his shoulder. To Ren's credit, he only buckled a little bit as he caught Mox on one arm, before lifting him up over his shoulder. He started over towards Nora, but balked at the resumed hail of mag fire coming through the door.

Murphy checked the chambers on his grenade launcher. The Frost Bomb was currently lined up to fire, but Murphy needed something else. Taking his last grenade off his belt, he slammed the smoke canister into the second chamber, forced the assembly around, and slammed the buttstock into the back of the launcher to cock it. "I'll go out first," Murphy explained. "When you hear me shout for you, run straight through the smoke!"

"Alright!"

With that, Murphy aimed at the door frame, and fired, the smoke grenade bouncing off the frame with a loud  **thunk**. After about two seconds, the hiss of the canister discharging was heard, and Murphy grabbed his cannon, revving the motor and sending the barrels into motion. Once the mauve-tinted smoke started to filter into the doorway, he stepped out of the prison and back into the sunlight.

Stepping out into the doorframe, he lowered his cannon to waist-height and began running to the right, an awkward thing to do while keeping a chaingun level and aimed downrange. As soon as he broke from the smoke, he could see them. Five contacts, three to the left by some crates and a transport ruck, and two to the center, walking down the entryway with weapons raised. They weren't expecting him to break right, for some reason. Maybe it was the lack of cover between him and the extraction point- there was absolutely nothing between him and there until he got to a small creek bed.

Grinding his heels into the dusty earth, Murphy turned his eyes and gun onto the leftmost ADVENT, and fired. The first few rounds struck home, sending his target flying backwards, so he slowly began sweeping the gun to the right, firing away as mag fire whipped and cracked around his head. By the time the bullets started whizzing past the second, it'd finally noticed where the shots were coming from. Said hostile couldn't act on it though, as a cannon round smashed into the next one over's helmet and left everything above nose level a red-orange mush. The other three began firing, and Murphy lowered himself and put his shoulder forward, trying to lower his profile. It did some good- a mag round that came a bit too close to home glanced off the metal guard he'd taken to wearing over his left shoulder, while another simply nicked him in the thigh. By that point he'd already struck down another ADVENT, leaving only the two directly in front of the doorway.

"MOVE NOW!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, taking a step back and turning his body before opening fire again.

He couldn't turn back to see anything by the doorway, but one thing that struck him as strange was the fact that he didn't hear Ren's pistol, even though he could have sworn he saw the boy draw it. What he could see and hear, though, was the ADVENT officer shouting and motioning at the doorway, trying to get his surviving subordinate's attention. With that break in the fire, Murphy grabbed his launcher again, and cycled the action to load up the Frost Bomb, and raising it with one arm. The recoil was gonna hurt, but now the enemy were firing back in Ren and Nora's direction, and Murphy couldn't let that stand.

The launcher slammed back into the crook of his elbow rather firmly, but it wasn't going to be more than a bruise. The blue, frost-covered grenade sailed in an almost arrow-like path at the ADVENT officer, smacking it in the head and knocking it to the ground, and drawing the other's gaze. It started to shout something in its alien gibberish, but was silenced by the grenade's detonation, which sent up a massive spray of grey-blue frost. Murphy didn't stop to see the after-effects, instead looking back at where Ren was supposed to be.

Ren had one arm holding Mox on his shoulder, while the other was wrapped around Nora's waist, guiding her along. She still had that half-vacant look on her face. That shock had done something  _bad_.

"She can't move on her own?" Murphy asked, clipping the grenade launcher to his back again.

"She's barely responding to me. I don't want to take any chances," Ren responded.

"Neither do I. Come on, I've got her. You're gonna need a free hand to get up the rocks."

Ren gave him an unsettling look- like a caged animal, almost. It was as fleeting as the breeze, though- no sooner then had Murphy noticed it, it had gone again "Alright."

With that, Murphy grabbed Nora by the arm. "Come on, we're gettin' you out of here."

Nora groaned. "Okay… owwww…"

Pulling the girl into the crook of his arm, Murphy took back off, clipping his cannon to his back and drawing his handgun. "Looks like an easy climb straight ahead, see that tall rock? You're just gonna have to toss Mox up over the ridge, then jump up there yourself."

"Got it," Ren replied, taking off into a dead run with speed that a man hefting something as big as Pratal Mox had no business running at. Murphy liked to think he was in good shape for a man in his late 40s, but geez!

He took off after Ren, pulling Nora along with him. She was able to keep her legs moving fine, but Murphy didn't trust her to make it to the LZ alone at this point. He heard the sound of approaching ADVENT transports, but with effectively two men and two dead weights to escort, there was no way in hell they'd be able to stand and fight. Taking his gun hand to his earpiece, he called and hoped to fuck that Firebrand was in the area.

"Firebrand, gimme some good fuckin' news right now!"

_"I've got you on my scope - Hitman, you good?"_

"No, I'm not fucking good! I got a WIA, plus the package, and every fucking ADVENT in this zip code wants a piece of my ass! Where the fuck are you!?"

_"I'm comin'! I see Bruce Lee up on the ridge line, can you make it up there?"_

"Where do you think I'm GOING!?"

_"Roger, smartass, hang on! I'll be there in less than a minute!"_

Murphy looked over his shoulder to see an ADVENT MEC disembarking from a transport, with a couple of troopers in tow. Another transport was stacking up behind it, this one with at least six troopers, counting the red-clad commander, trying to flag him down. Not the best thing to see behind you.

"Alright, this is gonna hurt a little bit!" Murphy informed Nora, before grabbing her by the collar and hoisting her onto his shoulder. Despite being quite short compared to him- he'd have to assume she was around 5'9 or so-, she and her hammer weighed quite a damn bit. He was gonna have a hell of a time giving her a toss. "REN!" he shouted, back into comms.

_"Yes?"_

"Grab Nora when I toss her over, then start running again! I'll cover you!"

_"Alright!"_

With that, Murphy forced himself up on the tall rock he'd have to jump from, and hoisted Nora up as high and far back as he could manage, then chucked her at the waiting Ren. She didn't get very far, just far enough to land flat on her bum in front of Ren, who immediately dragged her to her feet.

"Come on, Nora, just a little farther!" Ren assured her.

Nora's response was either silence or too quiet for Murphy to hear. The veteran jumped onto the outcropping of the ridge, managing to land the waist on up on the top. Forcing one leg after the other, he managed to roll onto his back, and start getting up. Unfortunately, he ended up catching a glimpse of what was behind them.

There wasn't one MEC, there were three, and they were all priming their grenade launchers.

"Oh, for the love of fu-"

The first grenade hit the ridgeside near him, while the second landed a bit in front of him as he took off running. A third landed close enough to stagger him and send his hat flying off and strands of sweaty blonde hair straight into his left eye. A fourth landed right behind him and sent him stumbling into the dirt, while a fifth landed so close it smacked him in the face with rocks and debris.

He could barely hear anything at this point, but thank God for the Skyranger's loud as hell engines, because he'd have to be COMPLETELY deaf to not hear those.

 _"MacAuley, move your arse! We're leaving!"_ came Adam's voice, barely audible over the ringing in Murphy's ears, but present nonetheless. He managed to force himself to his feet and move forward, looking up through his hair and the kicked-up dust to see Adam and Ren firing their pistols at the encroaching ADVENT, while Pyrrha-

_Oh no, not again._

"Wait, don'-" Murphy started, but alas, Pyrrha took the choice out of his hands, as Murphy watched her arm flick backwards with a crackle of red and black, and he felt his knee slowly lifting into the air. Evidently she hadn't learned from last time, as she flung him towards the Skyranger knee first, with no way for him to correct his course or even move more than flailing helplessly and hoping to god she didn't run out of Aura. This time, due to the much longer distance, he was probably going to faceplant on the lowered Skyranger ramp, which would certainly not be a favorable outcome.

Lucky him, Adam caught him with his free arm, stopping him a good foot short of a broken nose and a shattered dignity.

"That's everyone, Firebrand! Let's get moving!" he called back, dragging Murphy behind him as the latter struggled to get his balance back, and glared daggers at Pyrrha.

"For the LOVE OF GOD," the Aussie half-shouted, half-cried at the top of his lungs, "STOP DOING THAT!" His mind immediately did a 180, and went straight back to Nora. His eyes frantically darted around the Skyranger until he found the girl, seated off to the side with her burnt hand gripping her hammer for dear life, while the other fidgeted slightly against her head.

Something was very,  _very wrong_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't say we're at the endgame, because that would be a lie, but we're at the endgame of the beginning. The beginninggame. The gameginning. The begaming. 
> 
> Next chapter includes more RWBY, god help my poor insecurities.


	19. Catspaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric is recruited into a rescue mission, and the enemy puts new plans into motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll lately holy shit.
> 
> These updates are coming hella hot and fast, but honestly, if I don't keep up this kind of pace, I'll end up getting into a funk and having another 156 day hiatus, and I don't wanna put you guys through that. Sorry!

 

The ride back to Beacon was surprisingly peaceful, in spite of it being early morning- 6:00 'BN', whatever that meant- and Eric found himself halfway dozing off all the way back to Beacon. Remnant was a lot prettier when stuff wasn't trying to murder you, he'd noticed.

That woman. He didn't know her name, but the instant they locked eyes he knew she was trouble. And the way she asked if she knew Ezekiel… were Earth and Remnant connected in some other way? Was he somehow here? Did that woman run into him? What exactly did she want?

Once the bus reached the academy, he walked up to the door, swiped his charge card, and stepped off onto the walkway, where he could see some students starting to mill around and busy themselves.

_Man, I wouldn't have been able to get to school at 6 in the fucking morning.  
_

The crowd wasn't bad enough to impede him, though. He probably looked strange, a tall, scarred man in a big overcoat walking around with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed, but Eric didn't particularly care what he looked like. As long as people didn't bother him, he'd be fine. Figuring that was probably a mistake, though, since as soon as the thought had crossed his mind, he noticed someone running up alongside him. A girl, probably 16 or 17, with hair so pink it looked like cotton candy, and equally pink eyes. Almost hurt to look at her, how bright it was.

"E-excuse me, but, um... are you Professor Peach?" she asked, her voice high-pitched and annoyingly warbly, like she thought Eric was going to grab her around the neck and choke her out on the spot... actually, considering the look he'd seen in the mirror, he could see where someone might expect him to do that.

"No, I'm not. Sorry, miss," he replied, turning his head back towards the school. Hopefully the girl would get the hint.

"Oh, um... sorry!" With that, the girl dashed off, leaving a very confused, but otherwise unbothered Eric to continue his solemn march towards the school. He got inside without issue, and no other students seemed to be bothering him. The walk to the infirmary was equally uneventful, save for noticing that in front of the doors to the infirmary wing stood that Goodwitch lady who'd helped him figure out where the showers were the other day.

She didn't look very happy with him.

"Did you  _enjoy_ your outing, Mr. Frost?" she asked pointedly, narrowing her eyes at him in a glare that rivaled the intensity of the Southern California sun. If looks could kill, Eric was convinced he'd spontaneously burst into flames.

"Yeah. Went out, relaxed a little bit, saw the town," Eric replied nonchalantly.

"You could have waited and  _asked permission_ before lighting off. It's dangerous for someone like-"

"Someone like  _what_?" Eric repeated, raising an eyebrow. He knew this woman could probably rebreak his arm as fast as she had fixed it, but he didn't like where that was going.

Goodwitch seemed to be calling his bluff. She just stood there, glaring at him, while he did what he could to act like he wasn't fazed. It was obviously not selling well.

"I left you a damn note," Eric added, as if that would help.

"You still should have told someone you were leaving."

"Figured you were sleeping."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have left at 11:30 at night, Mr. Frost," Glynda admonished him. Was that crop in her hand always there, or had it just showed up?

"I'll be sure to wake you up in the middle of the night then, next time. My arm's fine, thank you for asking."

"Ms. Rose wanted to know how you were faring," Glynda stated, her gaze turning to his arm. "She had intended to give you something before classes started."

"Who the hell is 'Ms. Rose?'" Eric's irritation was growing. He just wanted to go and sit down for a minute, try not to think about that freaky as shit woman he'd run into at the bar, and collect his thoughts, and Glynda certainly wasn't helping him.

"The girl who broke your arm against her jaw when you were trying to kill one her teammates."

Oh. Well, shit, now he just felt like a jackass.

"Guess you told her I was fine?" Eric guessed.

"No, I told her that you were out. She'd insisted on speaking to you directly."

"Well, I'm  _in_ now."

"She's in class at the moment."

"Well, fuck me, wasn't this the biggest waste of my time?"

"What were you even doing last night, Mr. Frost?" Glynda asked. "What possessed you to go into the city? Even though you've gotten a pardon, I doubt most places would want to do business with someone who had been just recently raiding their dumpsters."

"A guy I met on the bus bought me drinks and some food, and we hung out at some club. I got to relax a little bit, sit down in something that wasn't a bed or a steel chair, and most importantly, he only asked me stupid fucking questions like 'what's your sign' and 'how long have you been in town', instead of grilling me about my entire fucking life story and how I got to this shitty fucking death planet. How about you get off my ass and go do your fucking job?"

Glynda seemed taken aback by Eric's sudden outburst, and to be fair, he sort of was too. He was a bit angry about the whole situation, yes, but not nearly enough to justify popping off at someone who had nothing to do with it. Or did she?

No, she probably didn't, and it was really fucking ridiculous of him to think otherwise.

"Taking care of you is part of my job now, Mr. Frost," Glynda stated, her voice ice-cold now, as if it was taking everything she had not to smack the taste out of his mouth with that crop.

"Right. Figured as much. I'm not leaving again, least not for a minute. Tell the Rose girl she can come by whenever, I'll be here."

"Of course."

With that, she stepped out of the way to the door, and Eric headed back inside the infirmary.

_Man, if I could go back in time, I wouldn't have pushed so hard._

* * *

 

 

Blake wasn't sure how she'd done it, but she'd somehow finagled her way out of Port's class when the bell rang, instead of loitering around for YET ANOTHER 45 minute long post-class tall tale. That man had hawk eyes, too- the last time someone tried to sneak out (one of Cardin's 'friends') he'd caught them the moment they reached the door, and made him sit down right in front of the whole class and do an entire oration-only pop-quiz. At least her time in the Fang was good for something, although she'd highly doubt her past self would appreciate hearing that- " _Hey, the killing you've done and acts of violence you've enabled will allow you to sneak out of any lecture that bores you too much_."

She had other things she was more concerned about. Namely, the state of her new… well, he certainly wasn't a friend… more an acquaintance. An acquaintance that attempted to kill her. To be fair, not the worst introduction she'd ever received, but it was up there. Regardless, she worried about Eric. The man was obviously not all there, and Remnant wasn't a place you wanted to be lost in, let alone a forest where the Grimm could and often were ranging free. From what little conversation she'd witnessed between him and Ozpin, he seemed like a decent man, not at all someone deserving of… whatever it is that happened to him.

Hence why she felt the need to check up on him. She was, after all, partially responsible for adding on to his misery, as well as pulling him out of it. She felt some sort of connection to the stranger, however minute.

The infirmary was a little bit louder than the last time she'd been in. A student had broken his nose during a spar with Cardin, and was currently getting checked out by Nurse Lapis, and making a little bit of a fuss about it. The nurse wasn't known for having the gentlest touch- how a woman as flighty and careless as her ended up as Beacon's nurse, Blake would never know. Hopefully she was more gentle with Frost- he didn't have Aura to fix up anything that got broken again.

Finding her way to Frost's door, she found it open, with the man in question sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall with those glassy blue eyes. At this angle, the resemblance was almost nonexistent. His face was gaunt and pale, with sunken cheeks and eyes ringed with purplish-black, and a jaw framed with a now much-thinner dark brown beard. His hair was shorter now, still curly, but cut close and slicked back somewhat.

"Mr. Frost?" Blake spoke up. The man jolted upright, and turned towards the door, reaching for the little table next to his bed for… something. Whatever it was, he didn't find it, and it didn't matter. He visibly eased when he noticed it was Blake.

"Oh. Hey, Blake. You're done with class?" Frost asked.

"Yeah, at least for the next hour and a half or so. Our athletic block is coming up soon, and I'm supposed to be sparring with Yang- the blonde girl. I'm not looking forward to it, she takes these things way too seriously sometimes."

"Well, I mean, from what it sounds like, you need to take this shit deadly serious," Frost countered, returning his arms to his lap, where he folded them and leaned towards the wall slightly. He finally turned to look at her, and now Blake was very certain that it was only the latent trauma of what had happened that made her think this man looked in any way like Adam. Even the look in his eyes was different. Not the dead, soulless look that only ever changed to anger, if it ever changed at all. Frost looked… scared.

Just scared.

"I suppose so. Do they let you do anything besides sit around in this room?" she asked, her hands going to her satchel. She'd brought a few books she thought he might enjoy- mostly stories from the Great War and history books, things she figured a military man might enjoy.

"Nah, not much. Snuck out last night, had a bit of fun at a club, but some creepy bitch ran me off," Frost explained. "Goodwitch gave me an earful when I got back this morning, but hey, now I've got a sort of stalkerish dude's phone number, and a friendly bartender."

"Sort of stalkerish?" Blake repeated, concerned.

"Pretty sure the guy was hitting on me. He's wasting his time, I don't swing that way… don't swing ANY way, really," Frost continued. "Might go to that club again, though, the owner was a stand-up guy."

"Which club was that?"

"I think it's just called 'The Club." Eric shrugged his shoulders, smirking a little bit as he recalled his experience. "There's no name or anything, just an old building. Really fucking cool lightshow, though, and the DJ may be a creepy fuck, but he knows how to run a table."

Junior's. Junior? Junior Xiong? Yang had told Blake about her…  _experience_ at that particular club when she first came to Beacon. It was a very violent experience.

"Well," Blake started again, after a short pause. "I brought you something, in case you got bored. Beacon has a library, so I checked out a few books for you. Mostly history and… military history, if you're interested, I wasn't sure what you preferred. A few stories from back during the Great War, things like that."

"Appreciate it, Blake. More of a comics and manga guy myself, but I'll take what I can get."

Did she hear that right? Manga? Did Earth have manga?

"You… know what manga is?"

"Shit yeah, I love that stuff. I used to have a couple of volumes of One Piece back when I was out on deployment, read those bad boys whenever we were stuck at Bombaconda for a couple of months," Frost explained with a smile, although that smile rapidly started to fade. "Ah, shit… those were in the fucking barracks. I wonder if any of the guys kept my stuff, or if they… yeah, they probably think I'm dead."

That was NOT where Blake wanted this conversation to go. "I'm quite a fan myself. I doubt our tastes align exactly, but there's quite a variety at a bookstore near here. What kind of stories do you like?"

Frost sighed, resting his chin on one hand and taking a minute to think. "I like… you know, outlandish stuff. It can be lighthearted and fun, or it can be dark and dramatic. You know, like Oda or Ito's stuff. Ah, shit, right you don't know who they are. Okay…"

"I can look around and see if I find you anything that fits those descriptions," Blake offered.

Frost's smile returned, a bit smaller, but no less sincere. He sat upright again, kicking one leg up on the bed and stretching himself out a bit, seemingly content to let his guard down now that he and Blake were just chatting. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks."

"Not a problem. I can't imagine it's much fun being cooped up in the infirmary all day." Blake gave him a smirk and a slight shrug of the shoulders, before looking at the books in her bag. "So, I'm guessing you're going to pass on these?"

"Fuck no, please, give me something to do!" Frost answered immediately, seemingly laughing at the absurd notion that he would pass on any sort of distraction from the four sea-foam green walls and sterilized counters of this barren infirmary ward.

Just as Blake had the books in hand, the door flew open again. Frost seemed a bit worried by the sudden intrusion, probably expecting it to be Goodwitch, but Blake already knew who it was. Ruby had made it clear to her that she wanted to apologize to Frost for some reason, so she'd went and bought him a box of cookies from a local bakery (well, half a box. Ruby evidently couldn't restrain herself for a whole morning.) When Frost saw the smaller girl peeking out from behind Blake, he visibly relaxed.

"Hi!" Ruby called out nervously, immediately offering the half-box of cookies as an attempt at pacification. "I got you some cookies… but you were gone earlier so I kinda sorta mighta…" Her voice trailed off slowly as she shrunk back behind Blake. "... _ateafewofthem._ "

Frost just shook his head, grinning ear to ear in a way that both reassured and unsettled Blake. Skeletal features plus a smile equaled a very unsettling image. "Ah, come on, now you're just buttering me up for no reason. Thanks, kiddo."

Ruby smiled, peeking out from behind Blake again. "No problem! Sorry about, you know, the whole 'arm breaking' thing!"

"Sorry about the whole 'clotheslining you to a dead stop' thing," Frost replied, shaking his head again. "Seriously, don't worry about it. If anything, the pain woke me up a bit. Kinda shook me out of… stuff."

Ruby finally came out of Blake's shadow, shuffling over to Frost and handing him the box, which he took and placed on the stand next to his bed. Blake took the opportunity to hand over the books, which Frost placed next to the confectionery before leaning back on his bed and making himself comfortable. "So, did you just come to check in on me?" he asked, incredulous. " After, you know, I… tried to kill you."

"You  _did_ seem like you weren't in your right mind," Blake countered.

"Yeah," Ruby agreed. "Plus, you seem like a really nice guy when you're not going crazy! But, um, I'm not just here to bring you cookies. There was something I wanted to ask you about!"

"Shoot," Frost replied, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of transparency.

"Blake told me that you came to Remnant through a portal, and that there's a whole other world on the other side of that portal," Ruby explained, her expression slowly falling back to a near-neutral. Blake figured she'd be a bit nervous about questioning Frost, given the situation around him, but so far the strange man seemed utterly unfazed by the way this question was going. "So… a few of our friends were in the woods where we found you, and we think they went into a portal… to Earth. Do you think our friends are...okay? We don't know anything about Earth, and neither do they, so I don't know if it's anything like here."

"Well," Frost began, "for starters- we don't have Grimm, and nothing on our planet has anything like you guys' weird superpowers-slash-healing factor, so you've got the corner on physical stuff. When I left, at least, our tech was years behind you guys. We kinda threw melee weapons off, as well, just focused on making bigger and bigger guns. Other than that, other than the whole 'alien invasion' thing, I think they might be alright."

"Well, about that… we're going to try and go if another portal shows up." Ruby explained. "Would you be willing to… maybe help?"

Frost seemed shocked that Ruby would ask him to help her after what had happened previously. To be fair, Blake knew firsthand that Ruby outright refused to hold grudges. You could slap her in the face and the next day, she'd be back to treating you like a friend. She was innocent, far too trusting, and opening their plans to a complete stranger, but to Ruby's credit Frost didn't seem like an intentionally malicious being. In fact, when he wasn't psychopathically trying to murder Blake, he seemed outright  _banal._

"Well, I did say I was gonna help if I could," Frost answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Don't know if this escapade of yours has teacher's approval or not, but hell, what's the harm? What would you want me to do?"

"We don't know anything about Earth. No places, no people, no nothing. We might need a guide," Ruby explained, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Blake could tell that she was thrilled to actually be making progress in finding their friends. "Would you be willing to come with us?"

Frost nodded. "I'll need a weapon. Earth's not as dangerous to you as you might think it is, but for me, it's a big risk. I'll need to be able to defend myself."

"We can get you a weapon," Blake assured him. "That's no trouble at all. Do you have a preference?"

"Shotguns. The biggest, meanest shotgun you can find," came the immediate answer. Frost seemed to know what he liked pretty well. "I had a satellite phone and a GPS in my gear, don't know what Goodwitch did with them, all I know is that they're still here. I'll need both of those to get us a location when we get boots on the ground. But most importantly… we're gonna need a portal. That's the hard part."

"Not as hard as you think, actually!" Ruby stated. "We've got cameras all over the woods! If a portal opens, we'll see it!"

"Yeah, if it opens again. I don't know if it will open in the same place four times. It dropped me, then picked up your friends recently, then picked up a snake man. That's three psionic portals in one location in the space of two years, with two back to back. Gonna take a lot of luck to make that happen." Frost frowned, rubbing his injured forearm pensively. "Worst part is, there's nothing you can do to make it happen on this end. We'll just be waiting for it to open, and even when we get over there, we'll have to wait for it to happen a second time to get you all out of there."

"We'll stay on Earth as long as we have to, so long as we find our friends," Ruby replied. "We're not worried about a little bit of waiting."

Frost nodded, but he still didn't look exactly optimistic. "Well, Ruby, I hate to break it to you, but… you're probably gonna be waiting a while before we even see a portal."

* * *

 

 

"So, like, you're telling me that this thing can create, like, portals? Out of thin air?" Melanie asked, skeptical as ever. "I'm calling BS."

"Yeah, sounds like a hard sell to me," Moviy muttered, looking at the creature in question. Junior had to admit, he wouldn't have believed it either, if the thing hadn't done it right in front of him. But even while half-Grimm'ed up, it seemed to have enough presence of mind to attempt an escape, and Cinder'd been pretty adamant that wasn't a side effect of her…  _unique_ treatment of the creature.

"Your boss can tell you as much," Cinder replied, matter-of-fact as she stared down the beast. Its pale and red coloration had now become a deathly off-white and black pallor, yet it retained every bit of the coiled strength and massive physique it had displayed back in the forest.

Cinder had a very strange taste in pets.

"She is nearly ready," Cinder stated, running a palm down the face of the creature, seemingly relishing the discomfort she was causing the thing. "We'll give her a little test run soon."

"I pity the poor son of a bitch this thing is getting 'tested' on." Moviy looked to Junior, apprehension in his eyes. While Moviy was a loyal foot soldier, Junior didn't hold such doubts against him. Hell, he was having a few of his own right about now. Not that he hadn't had his reservations previously- especially when he got clued in on the plan. Gods above, the plan…

Part of him hoped it didn't succeed. Sadly, he needed the money. The club was barely breaking even now, and even with all his leverage over the city, his enterprises were starting to cut so deep into his profits that you couldn't even call them profits. Cinder was offering him a stack of lien bigger than he'd ever seen in his life, and then some.

She'd better make this worth it for him. Keeping a goddamn monster in his basement was not at all written anywhere in the agreement.

"So, what about the rest?" Junior asked. "Is Bullshit still on board?"

"The White Fang contingent will support us, or they will die, they already know where the cards are on the table," Cinder replied. "Roman is still working on the Atlas angle, but my associates will have the program ready for us soon. As for infiltration, well, we've already managed to get our names on the board. So long as we are not discovered by that foreign interloper of yours, we will be fine." The 'interloper' comment was directed with a pointed stare at Moviy.

"Hey, he was a good-looking guy who seemed down on his luck!" Moviy protested. "I doubt he wants any trouble, I mean, you LOOKED at him. He won't be a problem, trust me."

"He had better not be. Neither I nor my mistress will be pleased if your  _libido_ ends up compromising our operation."

"My  _libido_ is perfectly in check, bitch." Moviy narrowed his eyes and cocked his hip, attempting his very best to look unintimidated by Cinder's display. Junior knew the DJ well- he wasn't doing a good job of it. He looked like he was about to piss himself.

Cinder rolled her eyes, before turning to Junior. "Hei, would you mind accompanying me? I want you, Torchwick, and Taurus for a little 'meeting' of sorts."

Junior very, very much minded, but wouldn't dare voice as much. Cinder seemed the kind of person to answer most objections with a knife in the back.

It didn't take long for them to find Torchwick, but they had to leave the city proper to find Adam Taurus. The Faunus revolutionary had staked out a camp a fair distance outside of the city of Vale proper, and had Cinder not known the way, Junior doubted they'd have ever found their way there. It was at least two hours journey out of the city alone, in one of Junior's private vehicles no less - vehicles designed to get from point A to point B as fast as possible, as quietly as possible.

Adam had set up a large tent as his command center, and when Junior, Cinder, and Torchwick entered, they found the White Fang commander brooding over a large table in the center of it, a large man with a chainsaw at his side. Not exactly the most… welcoming bunch.

"Adam," Cinder greeted him. "Thank you for your hospitality, as usual."

Adam merely let out a furious exhale, his nostrils flaring like his Faunus namesake as he leaned back in his seat. He was young, much younger than Junior expected him to be. Probably not much older than Goldie. The mask was a nice touch, too- outrageous, edgy, and made the guy look like he was desperately trying to compensate for some perceived weakness.

"Alright, gentlemen, sit down," Cinder ordered. "I'll have my associates on the line shortly."

Torchwick did as requested, lounging with his feet on the table, while Junior did all he could to squeeze into the very, VERY small chairs and attempt to act like he was comfortable. Meanwhile, Cinder tinkered with her Scroll. Once she got what she wanted, she stood it up beside her on the table, facing in such a way that all but Cinder were visible to the camera. Finally, an answer from the other end- a distorted, garbled, and booming bass voice, the stilted syntax indicating some sort of program to protect the identity of its owner.

**"Miss Fall. I have received the data you have collected from Subject Beta. It will be invaluable in my further research."**

"Consider it a favor, and leave it at that," Cinder replied, turning her attention away from the Scroll. "Now, for the plans. Are we still in motion?"

**"Doctor Watts is hard at work on the CCT Worm, while I have co-opted Dr. Merlot's research for possible use for Plan Cerberus."**

"I'm collecting all the dust I can, darling. There's gonna be a hole in the wall the size of a bullhead when we're done with it," Roman added with a smirk.

"The White Fang continue to uphold their end of the bargain," Adam stated, folding his arms. "We'll see if you humans keep yours."

Junior quietly adjusted his tie before speaking up. "I have… more information. Beacon Academy is planning its Spring Formal, as you all probably know. With the missing students, security is going to be a lot tighter- it's gonna be harder to get you in, but so long as your cover isn't blown, you'll be fine."

"Speaking of our cover, Hei…" Cinder interrupted. "...what of the newest Earth resident?"

"Records state that Eric Frost has been mostly kicked around various districts of the City of Vale, but was recently cleared of all crimes and misdemeanors by none other than Headmaster Ozpin himself. His place of residence? Currently listed as Beacon Academy." Junior sighed, and cracked his knuckles. "I doubt he saw anything suspicious, but if he were to run in on another one of our operations, we might have trouble."

"If he runs in on another one of our operations," Torchwick started with a twirl of his cane, before slamming it against the table emphatically, "Ozpin won't have enough of him to put into a SHOEBOX."

**"Pardon, Cinder. Did you say… Earth Resident?"**

"Yes. There have been two recent arrivals from Earth- Ezekiel Collins and Eric Frost," Cinder replied.

**"Ezekiel Collins is a powerful psionic. Where is he?"**

"Gone," Junior stated. "He jumped through a portal."

**"Good. He would be a significant obstacle to your plans. If this Frost is at Beacon Academy, outright murder would draw suspicion. Simply take your operations underground. Keep the outsiders in the dark, and your subordinates on a need to know basis. Now, I must go- there is important research needing to be done."**

"Thank you for your time, Doctor." Cinder smiled, and turned off her Scroll. "With that, I believe we've hit all the major notes for this meeting… right, I almost forgot. Junior, don't you have some news for Adam?"

Of  _course_ he did. Adam was an obsessive fucking freak who had demanded one specific piece of information above everything else, and the worst part about it was that Junior was practically obligated to give it to him at this point. Junior would normally say something about strange bedfellows or something of the like, but to call Adam a 'bedfellow' or a 'fellow' of any kind curdled his blood.

"We can confirm that Blake Belladonna attends Beacon Academy," Junior stated. "My little helpers have seen her accompanying a few other students around campus town."

Adam's normally taciturn and sour expression slowly morphed into an unsettling grin.


	20. Humanity's Champion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While tensions and nerves ramp up on the Avenger, an opportunity to escape begins to present itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to SGT_Chrysalis and my other anonymoose beta reader for continuing to be best bois.

_The day after Operation: Touchdown_

 

Roderick Braddock normally didn't go to the Armory when he wasn't kitting up for duty. Being in the Armory during your down time meant that it was about to stop being your down time, because Adam or Wolf Mother was gonna be on your ass in about ten seconds giving you something to do, but right now, both of them were on assignment.

So now Roderick found himself in the armory with Jerry Hall, of all people. Jerry had discarded his jumpsuit, and was instead wearing a pair of old jeans and a plain grey shirt, exposing the panorama of ink on his arms and neck, normally hidden by his uniform's sleeves and collar. He'd remembered hearing something from one of his co-stars about how artists saw  _everything_ as a canvas, and it seemed like Jerry subscribed to that. He was sitting down with an airbrush kit, 3D printed stencils, and a few actual paint buckets and brushes. In front of him, on large stands, were several of the new Predator uniforms. Some had full sleeves, some long sleeves, some had large shoulder and elbow guards, while others were more streamlined. Overall, the new suits were ugly- solid grey, bulky, and probably not very comfortable. Still, Roderick wouldn't complain too much. ADVENT guys could take quite a few bullets, and this new armor was made from a combination of alien alloys and Earth metals similar to ADVENT armor. That kind of protection would have been useful. Would have saved a lot of people a lot of heartache (and Jane a bullet through the chest).

Roderick couldn't help but be drawn to Jerry's work- a couple of suits hung off to the side, the paint drying off as Jerry moved on to the others. One was solid red, with a ring of hearts on the left breast, and a raised fist on the right. Another had a grey and black camouflage pattern, with a blue emblem on the center of the chestplates- a knife passing through a triangle, the left side of said triangle tapering into a lightning bolt.

"Hey!" Roderick called out, drawing the medic's attention. "They got you busy?"

Jerry stopped his work for the moment, leaving a suit half-finished. The camo patterns evidently weren't his work- some of the armors just came with them. This particular uniform had no sleeves, just the elbow guards and bracers, with the massive shoulder guards to match the others. So far, he seemed to be painting it some sort of minty green, with a more brownish tint for the camo burst.

The medic turned to look at him, already smiling at the prospect of seeing a familiar face. Roderick always liked being around Jerry- the man was constantly upbeat in spite of their situation, and never started any trouble on the boat. It certainly didn't hurt that he was a damn fine doctor, too, for a guy who never finished medical school. Evidently, he'd been planning to become a full time EMT, and just taught himself through experience anything he didn't already know. Roddy was just glad he got to benefit from that experience.

"Hey, buddy!" Jerry replied, positively beaming as he set down his airbrush and paints. His fingers were stained red, brown, green, and blue, so he wasn't exactly throwing his hands out for a shake, but he did extend a fist to Roddy, who casually bumped it as he went to closer examine Jerry. The former football player-turned-actor knew what it was like to have to work hurt-you didn't spend 6 years on the gridiron without taking a few bruises and breaks- and certainly didn't want Jerry putting himself on the bench for longer out of some crooked sense of responsibility. Thankfully, Jerry seemed to be healing remarkably well. There would be a scar, though: long and wide but shallow, running into his hairline from just above his eyebrow. It wasn't so bad- it took away a bit from Jerry's usual babyface look. The way he'd worn his hair hid it a bit, as well, letting the bangs down over his forehead while just letting everything else go where it may seemed to suit him.

"So, you're just… painting armor?" Roderick inquired, kneeling down to Jerry's level as he examined his work further. The closer he got, the better it looked- Jerry seemed to have a knack for what he did.

"Some of it, yeah. The presses do have a paint function, so some of the guys are just going with machined armor, but a few of the guys wanted a more 'personal' touch," Jerry explained, "so they came to me. Plus, I haven't really done much with a brush since I got here. Mostly just pencil work and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha," Roderick replied, nodding along. "Who all are you makin' 'em for?"

Jerry pulled his latest project back to him. "I just finished Lawrence's and Soph's. Working on Murphy's right now, then I've got Alex, Joseph, Declan, K3, Tomo, Jack, you, and Cedric. Plus, I'm making some for the kids."

Roderick appreciated the thought of Jerry painting up a suit for him, but that last part caught him off guard. "You think the kids will wear them?"

"They may not have liked the kevlar suits when they wore them out in the field, but I highly doubt any of them would be able to survive a head on engagement. Have you seen their outfits? Jaune and Pyrrha are the only ones with any armor to speak of, and Pyrrha…" Jerry trailed off, slowly lifting a hand and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Pyrrha…"

"What about Pyrrha?" Roderick asked, raising a brow.

"Roderick, they're supposed to be like, warriors in training, right? You know, trained to fight against monsters and the forces of evil and other weird stuff like that?"

"Yeah…"

Jerry looked up at Roderick with a look of exasperation. "Pyrrha's 'armor' is a corset with a cleavage window."

Roderick didn't know how this didn't really register in his mind until now, but now that he was really thinking about it, the idea of someone going into a gunfight wearing a corset was both horrifically irresponsible, and unintentionally hilarious. He couldn't help but let out a little wheeze-laugh, one he was barely able to suppress. "You're fucking right, ohhhh my god! That's just… what the fuck, man?"

"I know!" Jerry exclaimed, throwing out his arms. "It's like she's got a huge fucking neon sign pinned to her chest saying 'Aim here, ADVENT! Kill me!'"

Roderick's wheezing only intensified, but Jerry wasn't about to stop. The medic slammed his right fist into his now outstretched left palm, a unique combination of concern, annoyance, and mirth on his face all at once creating a sort of smile mixed with a blank, unsteady stare. "And Nora's top is not only cloth, it has a KEYHOLE! And Ren? He's wearing a  _SASH!_ "

"Dude looks like he stepped off the set of a fucking Kung Fu flick, dude!  _ **Wa-TAAAAAAAAAAAAH!**_ "

Now Jerry was starting to laugh, covering his eyes with his hands and hunching over almost to his knees. "It's some freakin' anime BS, dude, like, what the heck!?"

"And you know," Roderick said, picking up where Jerry left off, "Jaune's got some armor and stuff, but, dude, dude, dude. He just slapped on two shoulder plates, and a couple of slabs on the front and back, and just thought to himself 'Well, golly gee, I sure do hope nobody aims for my legs!'"

"Man, if they didn't have some superpowers or whatever this Aura stuff is, they'd be dead in about a half minute," Jerry continued, rubbing his eyes as his laughter slowly died down. "They're good people, though, questionable fashion sense aside. That's why I got them suits. I want them getting home to their friends and family in one piece, you know. Same as all of us."

"Yeah, well, don't worry about getting me back to my family, alright?" Roderick said. He'd made his marital and familial woes a regular part of his comedic routine.

"We're only sending you back to your wife so you can kill her, Roderick. You're saving the Earth, I'm sure nobody will question an errant grenade," Jerry assured him. The way he said it, it almost didn't sound like he was joking.

"I'm not gonna lie, Jerry, the way you said that is going to give me nightmares for the rest of the week. You are one sick fuck, deep down."

"Nah," Jerry assured him with a smile. "I'm only joking. You know me, I'm not really great with the whole killing thing."

"Bull. Mother. Fucking. Shit." Roderick replied, shaking his head. "I've seen the way you flash on those ADVENT motherfuckers, dude, it's scary."

"Well, ADVENT aren't people, so when you think about it that way," Jerry said, the smile very rapidly leaving his face as he grabbed his airbrush and went back to his work, "it gets a little easier. That's why I really, really don't like the Skirmishers."

Roderick was floored by how sudden and…  _un-Jerry-like_ that statement was. Compassionate, concerned Jerry thought of ADVENT as less than human beings.  _I kinda feel just a little bit disturbed._

"Why's that?" Roderick asked.

"Because they're ADVENT who act like people," Jerry answered matter-of-factly.

" _ **Attention- Skyranger is making final approach to Avenger. Medical staff, report to the Hangar Bay. Repeat- Medical staff, report to the hangar bay,"**_ blared the PA, startling Roderick and Jerry alike, although Jerry reacted much more quickly, standing up and pushing his work materials off to a corner of the room effortlessly.

"Roddy, grab my brushes and paint."

Roderick quickly complied, grabbing the airbrushes and paint and dragging them over to the corner by the armor. Jerry was already on his way to the staircase- he wasn't gonna wait for the hangar doors to open under the Skyranger, even if the elevator platform was already lifting up to meet the roof of the Avenger. Roderick didn't really have a choice, did he? He followed as fast as he could. His leg was still giving him a bit of guff, but he didn't have too much trouble keeping pace.

"Who do you think are the WIAs?" Roderick called up the stairs.

Jerry didn't even look back at him to answer. "No idea, a lot of things could have gone wrong in a lot of different ways on both of the ops, especially Touchdown. They made Murphy spring the trap early because Adam screwed up!"

"How did he screw up?"

"I dunno!"

Soon both men were on the deck, having beaten the medical team by a good two minutes, by Roderick's estimation, and the Skyranger was already on final approach. The middling spring breeze gave Roderick a bit of a sting in the eye, and soon the Skyranger's whipping tornado of turbulence threatened to blow him over. The engines were at full power. Someone was hurt  _bad_.

Jerry said as much. "They came in hot and fast. Someone's hurt, and hurt bad."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Roderick agreed. He could hear the med team making their way up, but he knew they wouldn't dare get between Jerry and his patients.

The Skyranger landed, and the door immediately began to open. Murphy and Ren were already standing by the door, Nora in between them with a 'dead fish' look in her eye and basically being dragged into step with them as they got down. Jerry was on the scene like a shot from a gun, and Roderick followed him, partly to help, partly out of his own sense of concern. He didn't see any blood, but that wasn't how someone healthy looked.

"How many wounded?" Jerry asked, immediately transitioning into a cool, clinical tone of voice.

"This 'un, Adam, and Pyrrha all got tore up a bit. Nora's gotten the worst of it, took a shock from an ADVENT bio-recognition scanner," Murphy explained.

Jerry blanched, looking down at the girl. Roderick had seen enough Resistance guys making the mistake of trying to fire ADVENT weapons to know what happens when you do that. Even if Nora's 'Semblance' as she called it was to absorb electricity…

"She should be dead," Roderick stated. "This Semblance shit is hardcore."

"Yeah, well, it didn't completely work!" Murphy stated, handing off his side of Nora to the waiting Jerry. Ren didn't dare let go, and from the look the medic and the young man gave each other, Jerry wasn't going to force him to. Still, he had two other patients to worry about, and both Jerry and Roderick turned their eyes to the Skyranger. Adam came down first, looking mostly unharmed.

"Took a nick to the side, it's nothing!" he stated, immediately power walking past them to the stairs, with Pyrrha attempting to keep pace with him, a look on her face that screamed something between bloody murder and a cold, distant serenity. Roderick being who he was, he immediately stepped in the way.

"What'd he do this time?" Roderick asked, trying to be as tactful as he could in this situation. He examined Pyrrha, and noticed she wasn't in any position to be squaring up with Menace Team's CO. She had a rather large, nasty wound in her shoulder, and her hip had taken a grisly gashing, as well.

"It's none of your concern," Pyrrha stated, failing miserably at concealing her anger. Sure, her voice was low, even, and measured, but Roderick knew that just because you were pissed off didn't make you loud. Just the way she walked like she hadn't had a chunk blown out of her arm gave it away.

"I'll tell you what's my concern, Pyrrha, is that you've got way too many holes in you," Roderick replied, folding his arms. "You can take his ass to the mat later. For now, you're going with Nora to the infirmary. If you wanna keep at Adam, you're gonna have to get through me, and I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly a pushover."

Pyrrha glared at him, but didn't make any sort of objection. Jaune walked up behind her, concern etched deep into his features as he looked at Roderick, then Pyrrha, then over at Nora. Jerry and Ren had picked her up and were currently carrying her to the stairway.

"You guys stuck your neck out for me and mine," Roderick continued, letting his arms drop to his side. "I'm grateful for that. Which is why I want you guys 100 percent before you go doing some stupid shit I'll have to bail you out of."

Pyrrha, again, didn't say anything, just kept glaring.

"Um, Pyrrha?" Jaune finally spoke up. "It's fine. Go get checked out. Please."

Pyrrha shut her eyes, and let out a deep, shaky exhale.

"Fine."

* * *

 

By the time Jerry and Ren had gotten Nora down to the infirmary, it seemed that the medic was already in an entirely professional mindset. Within 30 seconds of entering the room, he had Nora in a bed, was hooking her up to monitors and life support mechanisms in the event of the worst case scenario, and was already examining her with the help of his drone.

"Looks like some kind of direct brain trauma," Jerry stated, looking at the screen on the back of his drone, then back at Nora again. "Not blunt force, though, something else. You said her Semblance is to absorb electricity?"

"Yes," Ren replied. His voice didn't crack at all, that would imply he didn't have his emotions under control.

_Nora will be fine. She has to be fine. She will be fine._

"Well, I'm guessing since your Semblances aren't working properly, she dipped a little too far into the sauce and fried her brain. Looks like some damage to the memory and motor control centers, but nothing crippling… at least, not anything that I can notice immediately. On the exterior end, multiple flash burns on the hands and forearms, high-voltage burns to the hands and wrist area… she's gonna be in a lot of pain, but the good news is, she's gonna be fine." Jerry dismissed his drone to go fly off to another corner of the room. "Nothing lethal. Recovery's gonna be a painful process if Assassin fucks up their operation, or if we're wrong about our 'Aura equals Psionics' theory."

Ren hoped, for Nora's sake, that said theory was correct. Without her aura, recovery would indeed likely take weeks, if not months. "How bad is the brain damage?" he asked. Jerry had said it wasn't crippling, but didn't go into much regarding the effects.

"She's probably gonna have some minor retrograde amnesia," Jerry explained, taking out his PDA and scribbling down some notes with a stylus. "Definitely won't remember getting stunned, and probably won't remember ninety percent of what's happened since you guys got here, if not a little bit further back. She'll definitely remember you guys, though, and anything that happened further back than, say, two or three months. Don't worry, she's still gonna be the same Nora, just a little… banged up."

Ren allowed himself the slightest sigh of relief as the door opened behind him. Turning his attention to the sound, he saw Murphy, Pyrrha, Jaune, and Roderick all piled in by the door. Pyrrha was ushered in first, and Jerry's eyes immediately went to her injuries.

"Man, Big Red, you are just the  _unluckiest_ person I know, huh?" the medic asked, snapping his fingers and motioning for her to come over to another bed across from Nora's. "Sit, sit, sit, I'm a busy man and I don't have time to screw around. Corset off."

"Excuse me?" Pyrrha asked, incredulous.

"How am I supposed to dress that nice little blast to your side if I can't get at it through your combat 'armor'?" There were noticeable 'verbal air quotes' around that part. "At least loosen it up so that I can get under it. You need to get some actual armor before you start casually getting shot."

Pyrrha seemed a bit taken aback that Jerry was so casual about both attending to her injuries, and criticizing her. To be fair, from what Ren had noticed very few people criticized Pyrrha about  _anything._ Not that she was perfect, or saw herself that way, mind, but people tended to focus on what she did right more than what she did wrong. The perks of being a celebrity, he supposed.

"While you guys get your shit sorted, I'm gonna go see what's got Adam's britches in a twist," Roderick spoke up, waving off Jerry and Murphy and heading right back out the door. Murphy twisted his massive frame to allow Roderick to squeeze through, before coming in himself.

"She gonna be alright, Corporal?" he asked.

"Which one?" Jerry asked.

"Both, I guess."

"I'll be fine," Pyrrha contributed. "Just a few scratches."

"'Just a few scratches'!" Jerry put on a mocking falsetto and looked up from the cabinet he was currently rifling through. "Acting like you didn't just get shot."

"I've been beaten around before, this isn't anything new," Pyrrha assured him.

"Yeah, this is the first time you didn't have your 'get out of jail free card' to get you out of it, though," Jerry countered. "Now you gotta rely on good old-fashioned home medicine."

"What about Nora?" Murphy's attention was now turned to the convalescing ginger. He looked far more concerned than Ren would have expected him to, given the circumstances. It's not like he and JNPR had any sort of connection.

"She'll need some time to recover, but she'll be fine. Like I just told the rest of the kids, if me and Alex are right about the whole Aura thing, well, she'll be back up and kicking in no time at all. Speaking of that, when are they leaving for their op?"

"Tomorrow morning," Murphy replied. "We'll know then."

Ren breathed a sigh of relief, and Jaune visibly eased too. Murphy turned to look at Jaune first.

"You notice anything different during the day tomorrow, you tell Jerry or me immediately," he ordered. "Once you're back fighting fit, you'll be at a lot less risk until we find a way to get you home."

"Can do." Jaune's attention was still on Nora and Pyrrha, the latter of whom had relented and loosened her top enough for Jerry to get under it and start disinfecting the wound.

"So, you ran into the Chosen  _again_ , I hear?" Jerry asked.

"I don't know what the Chosen is, or are, but I suppose that's what that  _thing_ was," Pyrrha answered with a scowl. "It's much tougher than what we've faced already, since arriving here."

"Aye. That 'thing' beat the unholy hell out of Menace a couple of days ago, and yet you and Adam managed to kill it," Murphy stated, folding his arms and leaning back up against the doorway. "You lot are really something, you know."

Jaune's cheeks flushed, and the blonde gave an uneasy shrug. "Well, we did make a promise. We said we'd help."

"And help you did," Jerry butted in, looking up from his work as he went to grab some bandages. "With a little bit of help from you four, we killed the Chosen AND got Pratal Mox back on board, meaning the Skirmishers are gonna be a lot more inclined to help us from here on out. You four are officially in my good books right about now."

"Oath you are," Murphy agreed, now turning to Ren. "You and Nora kept me out of a serious spot of trouble out there. Sorry she ended up sufferin' for it."

"I'm sure that if she were coherent right now she wouldn't have any regrets," Ren attempted to assure him. The emotional readings he was getting off of Murphy belied an intense guilt. Far too intense for a simple stranger he'd met around a week ago to have. Either Murphy was an extremely empathetic person, or there was something else going on behind the scenes.

Ren wasn't exactly going to  _ask_ , but he'd be paying a bit of attention.

Jerry finished dressing Pyrrha's wounds, moving to her injured hand. "Unless that Aura stuff does miracles," he said, somewhat amused, "you're gonna have a wicked scar. You got cut down to the bone- might need to break out the stitches."

* * *

 

Grace was both worried sick and overjoyed at once, two emotions that she didn't know could possibly coexist.

The Chosen was gone. Dead. No longer in the picture, thanks to Pyrrha, Adam, and Jaune. Pratal Mox was in safe hands back on the Avenger, hopefully getting checked out soon- she'd heard he refused treatment when the med crew got to him.

At the same time, she'd been watching the cameras on the Avenger. Although Adam seemed to take Murphy's advice to heart, it was obvious that the degradation of his nerves was turning irritability into a hair trigger rage. Hell, he even had a reason to be mad this time. She had Firebrand's feed- Jaune didn't even  _try_ to fight the Chosen when it tailed them. He'd panicked.

 _'Maybe I should talk to the kid, or get one of the men to,'_ she thought idly, but she knew that was the least of her worries. Two of her team leads were cracking.

Adam's faults were obvious, but Murphy was a much more subtle, emotional man. An odd thing to think about, really. The just under six foot tall, wiry Welshman was the mean-spirited, vicious and angry wildcat of a man, while the six-six Australian brute was a vulnerable, soft-centered empath. She'd read his file, she had one on every single man and woman on the Avenger, save for JNPR. What Murphy went through was an all too common story among Resistance leadership- lost friends, lost family, lost purpose.

No man should have to bury both of his children before they even turn 18, but that was the world they lived in. The world they still live in.

Grace knew Murphy would take Nora's injury personally, and frankly she was worried too. Still, worrying could only do so much. Jerry was an intelligent young man. A disturbingly calm and friendly man for one of his…  _persuasions_ , but an intelligent young man nonetheless, with a gift for helping people. Nora was in the best hands Grace could find for her, and yet Grace still knew that Murphy was projecting an aura of poise and rock-solid stability while internally, he blamed himself for whatever happened in the field and wracked his brain for things he could have done differently.

She knew the feeling well. Even the most seemingly insignificant people on the ship meant a great deal to her. She didn't even think anyone other than Jerry and Assassin team commented on Corporal Duplessis biting the dust when the Avenger went down, or about the rookie, Brady. Wade had been with them since the beginning- he'd been her first pick to go on Gatecrasher, and for all his inexperience, Brady was a martyr for the cause. If Grace told him that blowing his own brains out would even slightly advance XCOM's chances, he'd have asked for a gun.

And now she had the responsibility for these four  _children_ , and came oh-so-close to failing on two separate occasions in the same day. Delegating to Bradford wasn't going to work anymore.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tygan's entry. She'd called him up to discuss the matter of the kids directly. The good doctor had a clipboard in hand and Corporal Richard following him.

"Richard, Philippe," she greeted them.

"Commandant," Phil replied.

"Commander," Tygan began, "You asked for the results of Project: SPARTA. I believe a practical demonstration may be in order. If you would direct your attention to the Corporal."

Grace pivoted on one foot, her body now facing the wall as she looked over at Phil, who was already dressed for combat in the new Predator armor. The stuff was striking, and not just because of Phil's preferred bright orange hazard paint. It was big. Bulky. Almost obtuse. It was definitely some serious protection- reminded her of the Carapace Armor Shen had designed for the men back in the day, only less round.

"After studying Mr. Arc's shield and sword, we noted a peculiar anomaly in the kite shield design- the spine of the shield was hollow, to allow Jaune to sheathe his blade inside of it. The shield would then compact around the blade, forming a fully functional sheath that rests on the hip, if a bit heavily. Co-opting the mechanisms used in this design, Chief Engineer Shen and I have developed the Kinetic Barrier."

Grace watched as Phil flicked his thumb against the back of a small trigger that now rested in his hand, threw his forearm forward, then pulled the trigger The bulky apparatus on the arm plate loudly  **clanked** as it extended on all four sides, then extended again, and again, and so on, until the shield ran nearly up to Phil's head. Phil was a huge man. This was certainly no small shield. At least the size of an old-world riot shield. When Phil hunched slightly, it covered everything from his head to just past the knee.

"Though the design is cumbersome at such a weight, better understanding of the alien alloys and further research into Project (insert EXO suit project name here) may yield a more lightweight but equally efficient design," Tygan explained, motioning to Phil's arm. "The Kinetic Barrier deploys via an alien-alloy arm brace, attached directly to the armor system via replacing the standard vambrace. Although it is extremely heavy, weighing approximately 25 pounds, our Grenadiers will likely be able to bear the weight, given their extremely rigorous training in order to bear their current operational loadout. "

"How tough is it?" Grace asked, turning her attention fully to Phil.

"I've been shot with every weapon on this ship, Commandant," Phil answered with the slightest of smirks. "C'est un bouclier difficile. It's tough."

Grace smiled back at him, and nodded. "You'll have the perfect opportunity to test it."

"That is… not all, Commander," Tygan interrupted, turning towards the shield-wielder. "Corporal Richard posited an interesting idea, regarding the latest inroad on the ADVENT Blacksite."

"I can speak English, but some words are beyond my grasp. Doctor Tygan agreed to help me."

Grace nodded. "So, what's your idea, big man?" Many thought Phil was stupid, from hearing the dull, booming bass of his voice or his halting, heavily-accented English, but Grace knew better. Hell, if the man didn't defer to Sergeant Duvalier about everything, she'd have put HIM in command of Assassin instead. If he had something to say about an op, she wanted to hear it.

"When Assassin team disables the Psionic Inhibitor, many believe that the children will gain their… comment appelles-tu cela, err…"

"Their 'Semblances'?" Tygan asked.

"Their bullshit superpowers?" Grace suggested helpfully in the same instant.

"Oui, their bullshit superpowers. If they get them back, we should bring them to attack the 'Black Site'. The red-haired girl will ensure we don't need access codes or passwords, since she can just rip the doors off, or perhaps use her magnetic power to open the doors internally."

"Good idea, Phil, good idea." Grace pulled her laptop to her, and started typing. "We'll have to wait for at least Pyrrha to be back at 100 percent before we spring the operation, then."

"Also. I believe that rotating teams is… a bad idea, for the Black Site mission. There are members of Stalker and Hitman who know more about it than most."

"Oh?" For someone who kept a rigorous record of what her troops had been up to, this caught Grace unawares. She knew Van Pey had some…  _experience_ involving the blacksite, hence why she had Wolf Mother get Stalker into fighting shape, but THIS was interesting. She hadn't been informed that anyone on Hitman knew the area.

"Van Pey and Braddock, Commandant. They were with a small resistance group that attacked it three years ago."

" _Roderick Braddock_  attacked an ADVENT Blacksite?" Grace asked, incredulous. Roderick's word, and the report, both said that he only joined as recently as Operation: Gatecrasher. There was…

That son of a bitch.

Grabbing the microphone attached to the PA system, she tried her damnedest to keep her voice level. "Corporal Braddock, report to the Commander's quarters immediately." With that done, she turned back to Tygan and Phil. "Thanks, you two. You're free to go."

"Goodbye."

"Thank you, Commander. Corporal Richard, if you would follow me. I believe Shen wanted your input regarding the new weapons platform."

With that, Phil and Tygan exited the room, leaving Grace to stew. She'd known Roderick had a very unlikely story. He had a cushy, secure lifestyle before joining XCOM, kinda like Alexios. Unlike Alexios, though, he never did anything stupid and got burnt- Roderick stayed above the board until just recently, and even now ADVENT still considered him a 'missing person', not a criminal. Roderick's disguise had helped with that, certainly, but he'd made it sound like he only just got the wild lark to resist. It wasn't that she particularly cared when he joined up- it was the principle of lying to your commanding officer. XCOM was barely a military unit, but there were some things you just didn't do.

Roderick entered maybe five minutes after Tygan left, and Grace noticed that the aforementioned disguise was pretty much gone now. He'd shaved his beard, leaving only the naturally ashy black stubble the gridiron standout-turned-Hollywood idol had worn for almost his entire career, and his hair was shorn again, with only the very ends holding the slightest blonde tint, fading into that same black. Had he decided he didn't want to be an infiltrator anymore? Not that Grace cared, Elena was far better at getting in and out quietly than Roderick would ever be.

"So, Roderick, just how long did you intend to keep lying to me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, that depends on exactly WHAT lie you're talking about, because that could mean anything from me saying I DIDN'T get Bradford the Grey Goose he wanted to me telling you-" Roderick was smiling.  _Smiling_ about this whole situation.

"You know about the ADVENT Blacksite. Don't bullshit me."

"I'm not bullshitting you." Roderick casually shrugged, and waved his hand dismissively. "You just never asked."

"Do you not think that this might be relevant information, considering we're gonna be hitting the place anyway?"

"... to be fair, I assumed you were sending Hitman anyway, so I was gonna wait and tell the team when we got in the field," Roderick admitted.

"And WHY would you wait that long without telling me?" Grace asked, her frustration mounting with every single second that Roderick acted like this wasn't a big deal.

"Because… um…"

Grace tapped her foot impatiently, while Roderick just gave a much more lame attempt at his previous smile and shrunk in slightly.

"Dramatic effect?" Roderick offered, his pitch rising steadily between syllables.

Dramatic. Effect.

"Roderick."

"Yes, 'm?"

"I don't even know what to say to that. That is the stupidest, most infantile excuse I have ever heard in my life, and I don't have any words for it."

"Totally understandable."

Grace sighed, sitting down in her chair and grabbing a fistful of hair, trying to ground herself long enough to get a grip. She was tired of being out of the loop. Almost 30 years she'd been  _trapped_ in a cage, unconscious, hooked to wires and cables and machines and forced to run training simulations for the ADVENT war machine, helping to destroy the same things she had fought to the last desperate breath to protect. She hated not having all the information, hated not knowing things, and hated when people lied to her. She knew that Roderick probably wasn't hiding anything that would be detrimental to the cause, but it still stung all the same. If she'd have known this, maybe they'd have been able to pinpoint the site faster- Roderick had a much better memory than Van Pey did.

"Is there anything else you aren't telling me, Roderick?" Grace asked, exasperated.

"Yeah. Quite a few things. None of 'em are really important in the grand scheme, but I like to keep things close to the vest," he replied.

"Why?"

"Do you think I survived, being who and what I am, by being open? I'm a celebrity. People  _know_ my face. I had to go through disguises and identities like tissue paper to get this far, had to sell people out so that I'd see tomorrow, and done some really shitty, low-down things to survive. If you wanna know all of that? All you had to do, and all you have to do now is ask.

"Get out of my office."

Suddenly, like a wave, something crashed into the back of her head. Not like, the physical back of her head, but more of the figurative. Something was in her head, stopping her from saying anything else.

_'This is the opportunity. Send the children, kill two birds with one stone. They go home, and you destroy the Blacksite.'_

_What the hell? Who are you?_

_'Who or what does not matter. Heed my counsel.'_

_How the hell am I supposed to trust you? What are you doing in my head?_

_'I have been here since the very beginning. Preparing you for what is to come.'_

_Bullshit you are._

' _You are a brilliant tactician, but you cannot do this alone. I have been guiding you against my brothers and sisters since the day we came to your world. You and your people do not deserve to share in the fate we shall reap. You must trust me, Grace Cheng. If we do not stand together, we shall both be destroyed.'_

Roderick waved, and went to walk out the door. "Wait," Grace ordered.

Roderick stopped, and looked over his shoulder.

"I'm gonna send you, Van Pey, Richard, Sagole, and Murphy on the Blacksite Op. The kids, too," she explained. "Be ready to rock and roll in six days."

"You got it, Commander. You can count on me," Roderick replied with a casual salute, before leaving her office entirely.

 _Can I really count on him?_  Grace asked herself.

' _You can'_ , answered the voice in her head.  _'Though he is a man of many secrets, his heart is the one thing he leaves open.'_

"How do you know all this shit?" Grace thought out loud, leaning back in her seat. She'd gone nuts. After 30 years of service to Earth and its people, Grace Cheng had finally lost her marbles and started hallucinating voices in the back of her head. Well, damn, she had a good run while it lasted.

_'My brothers and sisters are stronger than I. But I am wiser.'_

Grace sighed once more, pressing her palms against her eyes and applying pressure until there were dozens of little dots of light popping in the black. "Okay… okay." Her hands fell into her lap, and Grace looked up at the ceiling.  _I can't believe I'm talking to myself._  "Let's start from the beginning, then. What, and who, the hell are you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, shit, here dubious canonicity goes again.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, we bout to have ourselves a FISTFIGHT! Airhorn, airhorn, vuvuzela, vuvuzela, MLG screen-shaking and color warping intensifies.


	21. Corps-a-Corps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training, thinking, and a little bit of team bonding.

_Three days after the previous chapter's events_

Pyrrha wasn't sure if it was pride, concern for the safety of XCOM's Rangers, or a bit of both, but she certainly had her doubts about this impromptu 'training session'. As much as she wanted to pay her figurative dues and get things done, she wasn't at all fond of the idea of being put up as some paragon to a bunch of complete strangers.

Bradford had brought the four-time champion to the GTS, and gave her a run-down of the competition- pardon, her  _trainees_. She'd asked for Jaune to be allowed to accompany her so he'd come along too. Hopefully he'd learn something from all this.

Roderick and Remi were the only ones with anything resembling any training with a sword prior to XCOM. Roderick 'did his own stunts' for a movie, while Remi was a well-regarded fencer at his primary school, winning national acclaim for his skills. Meanwhile, the rest of the rangers were a mixed bag. Fyodor Sidorov evidently had a natural talent for the blade, the same with Declan Delacroix. Others, like Kyle Keenan, Abel Szarabajka and Tomohiro Watanabe had no prior experience nor particular talent with the standard issue blade. If anything, it would be like starting over with Jaune all over again.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't be fighting with Miló and Akoúo̱. Bradford stated he wanted a level playing field, and Pyrrha found such a request reasonable, if only for the sake of XCOM's men. They'd be using dulled practice blades. They were far weightier than Pyrrha's standard fare, but she would make do- she'd had to deal with similarly cumbersome weapons under her tutors' guidance.

The GTS was packed tight. Long as the room was, it was also narrow, so the mats on the floor for the purposes of the spar were practically wall to wall. On one side of the mats stood Bradford, herself, and Jaune, while on the other stood her trainees. Remi stood in the front, standing out rather prominently thanks to his position, the myriad of piercings and tattoos that marked him, and the long, frazzled stripe of hair that ran down to his back, completely shaved to either side. On either side of him stood two men, one tall with thinning brown hair and a thin beard, the other with a short goatee and a barely-kept combover and narrow, almost iron grey eyes. On that man's right stood Roderick, while another man with curly strawberry blonde hair and eyes the color of sapphire flanked the narrow-eyed man. Declan stood next to Roderick, idly twirling one of his axes in his off-hand. Finally, behind them all, in one corner of the room, stood a dark-haired woman with a fade cut, a tattoo of a wolf next to her right eye, and a snarl that seemed plastered to her face.

That was  _probably_ the 'Wolf Mother' she was informed of by Bradford. Pyrrha wasn't certain, but she figured that was enough to make an educated guess.

"Alright, Rangers," Bradford began, "There's only so much I can teach you- I'm not a swordsman, never had any interest until it was me and a machete against a Sectoid in a barn on the Kansas/Missouri border. With that being said, recent events have sort of dropped a bit of a relief into my lap." The grizzled officer then motioned to Pyrrha. "For those of you who haven't already had the pleasure, this is Pyrrha Nikos. She's one of our four temporary guests from Remnant. Four-time Mistral Combat Tournament winner, which means she knows her way around a sword better than anyone on this boat that isn't named Remi Duvalier— at least in theory. Don't let the looks and the medical tape fool you- she's tough as nails, and she will beat your ass from the windows to the wall if you fool around. Jaune and I will be supervising to make sure no one gets hurt. Do I have a volunteer for first match?"

Pyrrha rolled her shoulders and bounced on the balls of her feet silently, trying to work the stiffness out. Her injuries weren't as severe as they looked, and her malfunctioning Aura still did a good job of minimizing the damage. Regardless, she had a lot on her mind going into this fight, not the least of these things being Nora.

Whatever happened to Nora terrified Pyrrha on a primal level that she would never have anticipated feeling in her life. The normally chipper, upbeat hellion that she called 'teammate' and 'friend' was a bit out of it when they jumped onto the Skyranger, but over the past two days, she'd degraded to almost catatonic. Her Aura wasn't healing any of the internal injuries, meaning that Nora's consciousness and motor control was less a bodily function and more of a bodily lottery. Seeing her friend like this horrified Pyrrha, and Ren's reactions were even worse—she could hear him pacing the floors at night, if he wasn't in the infirmary. Jerry didn't comment on it when he left Nora's side to eat or take care of other duties, but she could tell that both of them had their entire focus on Nora. Murphy wasn't doing too well, either. She'd heard him talking to Jerry, Adam, and Bradford about his feelings of culpability for 'what happened', and his mood had noticeably dampened. She'd seen him digging through his possessions, as well, often focusing on a framed photograph near his bedside, or a pocket watch. Pyrrha was curious as to what significance either of those items held to him, or what they had to do with his mood, but she wasn't a very nosy person. She'd leave him to his.

In the meantime, she had a fight to focus on.  _No_ , she corrected herself.  _A spar between peers. Albeit my 'peers' all range from indifferent to outright disdainful of me. I'm rather certain 'Wolf Mother' would like to rip my throat out with her teeth._

"Would anyone like to volunteer?" Bradford repeated, looking pointedly at Declan, who seemed raring to go. Before the axe-wielding loon could speak, though, the big man with the brown hair stepped forward.

"Central," he said, with a thick accent that reminded Pyrrha of some of the Atlesians she'd met, "I am not certain this is good idea."

"And why is that, Fyodor?" Bradford asked. The big one must be Fyodor Sidorov, then.

Chocolate-brown eyes shifted from Bradford to Pyrrha, and a frown crossed Fyodor's features. "She is… you know. Girl. Young girl. Young girl with an injury."

Well, Pyrrha had only just met Fyodor, but she wouldn't dare say as of yet that he didn't speak his mind.

"It sounds like you're either forfeiting or volunteering!" Roderick contributed helpfully. "Come on, Iron Man, show us your stuff!"

"I do not like that nickname, stop it."

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow, and had an idea. If no one would volunteer, she'd try and convince them to participate. The stick was effective, but the carrot was much more appealing. "'Iron Man', eh? That's an impressive epithet, sir. How did you get that one?"

Sidorov's frown remained, but his eyes went down to his waist. He lifted the hem of his shirt slowly, pulling it up to just under his pectorals to reveal a massive, wide gash from his hip up to the sternum, and past even that. Other scars, bullet wounds by the look of them, dotted his abdomen, while a rather severe burn marred the forearm of his left arm, which held up his shirt.

"I am hard to kill, so they say I'm made of iron. Also, because I liked movie."

Pyrrha didn't know anything about Earth movies, so she supposed that she'd just set that tidbit aside for when she needed entertainment during the night. "I have a nickname, too. I'm called 'The Invincible Girl', by… well, most everyone I know, unfortunately."

Fyodor's frown turned into a smirk as he dropped his shirt back to rest properly on his bulky frame, and looked back at Pyrrha. "Oh? All show?"

"I don't know about Earth, Mr. Sidorov, but where I'm from, you  _earn_ every accolade you get, titles included. No one has beaten me yet."

Pyrrha didn't like playing up her accomplishments at all, but if it was for educational purposes, she'd embrace the role of 'cocky challenger'. It seemed to be working on Fyodor.

"Well. We'll see if I cannot break the streak. I warn you, I am bad at fighting. I much prefer making friends. Perhaps this ends that way, da?" The big man raised an eyebrow, offering his free hand to Pyrrha.

She took it, and gave it a firm shake. "Perhaps."

With that, he pulled back, moving towards the others as his face morphed into a stoic mask. "But first…  _I must break you._ "

There was silence over the room for a solid five seconds after his boast, then Fyodor's mask began to subtly crack. His eyebrows slowly curled, and his lips were drawn inward as he drew a sharp inhale; the stoic expression finally lost any attempt at restraint when Roderick let out a wheeze, and the big man started laughing alongside him. He had a laugh that reminded Pyrrha of Professor Port- a big, hearty belly laugh that came straight from the diaphragm and lasted a full minute.

"What's so funny?" Jaune asked from behind her.

Fyodor shook his head, his laugh slowly dying down to a chuckle as he rolled the wrist of his sword arm, and turned his attention to Pyrrha's noodly partner-and-leader. "Nothing, nothing. Is movie joke! Now, with that done, I am ready!"

Pyrrha nodded her assent, and took a step back. She had a bit of mat to work with now that Jaune and Bradford had cleared the floor. A smaller arena than she was used to for certain, but not anything crippling. If anything, this worked to her advantage. Though Pyrrha was anything BUT small at 5'11, she was much smaller than Fyodor, who was similar in build to Philippe, but closer in height to Alexios. Even now that they were in a fight, it was obvious he preferred not to force that size to move too quickly. He stood with his sword at the back, leading with his off-hand. An unusual choice, but she couldn't fault him for his lack of formal training. What was also unusual was his movement- rather, his lack thereof. The man stood stock still and watched Pyrrha like a hawk.

Pyrrha took a step forward. Fyodor took a step back. She took a step to the left, he took one to the right. Back, and he went back. She took a step back, and he shifted ever so slightly forward.

"Y'all fight like old people fuck," Declan stated eloquently.

"Shut the fuck up," the narrow-eyed man ordered. "I'm trying to pay attention."

Pyrrha knew one of them would have to break eventually, or they'd be standing here forever. She also knew that unless word traveled fast, Fyodor had no idea about the apparent strength differential between Team JNPR and Earth humans, meaning that if she got the first hit in, she'd do some serious damage, maybe even end the fight alright.

Only one way to find out.

Pyrrha stepped forward slowly, watching as Fyodor stepped back again, then launched forward, blade extended out from her body and readying for a wide diagonal slash, up the same direction as his scar. Fyodor quickly sidestepped the blow, attempting to throw a heaving single-handed slash down on Pyrrha's back. She quickly righted herself, spinning about to block the strike and push the blade outward and jab the point into Fyodor's stomach before he could even think of retaliating. The big man groaned in disappointment, seemingly ready to concede now, even though the contest had barely started.

"Shit, you are too fast," he muttered. "This is why I hide in shadows and WAIT, Central!"

"It's cause you're a PUSSY!" shouted the curly-headed man, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. "Gimme a goddamn fight!"

"Talk shit, get hit, Keenan!"

"The fuck I will, laddie!"

"The fuck you will indeed, Kyle, you just volunteered," Bradford stated. "Up ya come."

The man visibly deflated, his shoulders sagging. "Aw, f-"

* * *

"-OOK ME!" Keenan shouted, clutching his ankle.

"I'm sorry!" Pyrrha exclaimed. She hadn't meant to throw him that hard, really. Her memory about the whole 'strength' thing slipped.

"Fooook me! You fookin' broke it, you daft bimbo, you've kill't me! I'm deceased! I'll never walk again!" Keenan wailed, rolling around on the floor. "Oh, you bitch! May the fruits of your womb be cursed for all your days-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Narrow Eyes demanded. "GOD! DAMN! MY TURN, COME HERE, I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS, THEN KICK HIS!"

* * *

Tomohiro Watanabe, as Pyrrha had learned him to be, was even less of a challenge, charging in and running into a swing that caught him right in the gut and sent him sprawling.

"FUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

Wolf Mother stepped up, sneering down at Pyrrha now as she cracked her knuckles in anticipation, before drawing the rather large breaching axe off her back.

"You're a fun one. I  _like_ you."

Wolf Mother wiped the smudge of blood off her lip, and smiled what was possibly the creepiest smile that Pyrrha had ever seen as she walked out the door.

"Man, that was fun! Hope we dance again sometime, kiddo!" she hollered, trailing off as she went back into the hallway. Roderick visibly cringed.

"Is 'Scary Butch' a type?" Roderick asked.

"I reckon it should be," Declan replied, "if only for her sake. Alright, anyone else wanna get the shit knocked out of 'em?"

Everyone turned to look at Declan. Fortunately for him, a man peeked out from behind him, drawing everyone's attention to the latter instead.

"Abel," Declan started.

"Please, God, no."

"Don't call me God, it's not grand enough for my tastes. Now come on, you lil'  _bitch_."

* * *

Pyrrha went easy on Abel. Just a little. Enough to make him feel like he didn't completely waste his time.

"I thought this was supposed to be training, not 'beat all of our asses in rapid succession!'" Remi protested. "What are we, a bunch of imbeciles!?"

"I guess so!" Declan answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Welp. Guess it's just the three of us now."

Pyrrha looked between the three of them, and indeed, a fight with any of them would be much more difficult. Remi apparently had classical training, while Roderick at least made efforts to obtain some form of formal practice. Declan, supposedly, had 'natural talent', but he was using axes, which was something Pyrrha hadn't been expecting up until Wolf Mother came out swinging.

Pyrrha's eyes met Declan's first.

"Don't you look at me like that, little lady, I'm about to be on sight with you," he warned her.

"On sight?" Pyrrha repeated, confused.

"It means I'm about two seconds away from goin' apeshit on your ass."

"Apeshit?"

"Are you fuckin' with me right now?"

She was, just a little bit.

Declan groaned in frustration, pulling his axes off his back. "Alright, I'm about to cunt punt you into low orbit."

_How crude._

The first thing that Pyrrha noted that Declan was putting himself at an unhealthy disadvantage by using his axes instead of a practice blade. Unless he was willing to potentially maim Pyrrha, which seemed a distinct possibility (though not as likely as Adam would be to try it, she figured), he'd have to hold back. On top of that, he was using two very heavy weapons.

"Declan, grab a dull blade, the last thing I wanna do is pick up fingers off my floor," Bradford warned him.

Declan just gave his ruddy locks a sassy flip with his off hand, transitioning midway through into a silent request for Bradford to self-fornicate. "She can handle it. Come on, sister, 'four time champion' ain't afraid of a few sharp edges, right?" He sneered down at Pyrrha as he flipped one of his axes in his hand. "Riiiight?"

Pyrrha looked back at Bradford, who'd turned to her for some sort of approval.

"I don't have a problem with it," she said. Truthfully, if she felt like she was in danger, she could simply use her Semblance to throw him off and call it there, and that would be the end of it.

"Alright then." Bradford turned his attention back to the  _other_ redhead. "Declan, mind yourself."

"I'll only leave  _shallow_ wounds," Declan assured him, his grin not even budging in the slightest.

Declan attempted to attack first, with an overhand swing from both of his weapons. It was practically impossible NOT to dodge the strike, and as he went for a follow up with his right-hand axe, sweeping up from the opposite side and swinging for Pyrrha's chin, she was reminded of one of her first opponents in the tournament circuit. Indeed, down to the axes, Declan was just Cerule Athene with a new coat of paint.

She'd beaten Cerule without a single scratch.

Pyrrha batted the axe away with her sword effortlessly, and Declan attempted another wide, telegraphed swing with the other axe. She ducked beneath, and slammed the flat of her blade into his chest, pushing against it to shove him backwards and give her an opening to attack. As Declan stumbled backwards, Pyrrha lunged in, intending to put an end to the fight quickly with a solid whack to the side.

Impact, and Declan stumbled, letting out a pained grunt as he righted himself, and proceeded to brandish his axes again.

_He's not done yet._

Declan seemed to be intent on getting hurt today, so Pyrrha figured that if he was good to continue, then she would oblige. Stepping back to create a bit of distance between them, the four-time-champion once again found a parallel with an old rival. Cerule had very little patience, and even less tolerance. When she flagged or faltered in their fight, she'd come at Pyrrha like a wild animal, and it seemed that Declan was set on that same path.

The axe-wielder rushed in, surprising Pyrrha with the fact that he wasn't at all attempting to swing yet. Capitalizing on his hesitance, Pyrrha swung for the fences, aiming to deliver a blow to the stomach that would make him reconsider coming for seconds.

But then, Declan leaned in to the hit. No, not leaned in- he leaned  _over_ it, and caught the practice blade with his arm.

"That's fucking cheating!" Tomohiro groan-shouted from the sidelines.

Before Pyrrha could right herself, Declan used his free arm to deliver a hammering blow with the back end of the axe to her shoulder- he'd at least been courteous enough not to try and hack her arm off. Her aura flared, and if she wasn't careful, she knew that it wouldn't last much longer. She either needed to separate from Declan, or find a way to leverage her strength to her advantage.

Another swing, this time the back of the axe aimed at Pyrrha's head, and she took action. Ducking under the swing, Pyrrha swept low, ducking to a knee and sliding under Declan to tuck her arm through his legs and hook them over her shoulder. Then, she attempted to stand again. Declan sandbagged her harder than any opponent had attempted to before, answering her audacious grapple attempt with a hammering blow with the handle of his axe, but one thing Pyrrha had the advantage in was endurance- though her Aura wavered, it didn't break just yet. She threw all of her weight into a second lift attempt, and although she wasn't able to exactly hoist Declan, she did wrestle him to the floor, preparing to press her blade against his throat and unequivocally end the spar.

Declan had other ideas. Catching the practice blade in his palm, and wrapping it in a vice grip. Both of his axes were out of reach, so this was the best he could do for now. He then coiled his legs, and pressed against Pyrrha's waist before kicking out with all his might, pushing her off of him just long enough for him to roll to his feet by one of his axes. Grabbing a hold of the weapon in both hands, he swung for the fences, barely scraping Pyrrha's nose with the blade as he went through the spin, throwing out a leg in an attempt to follow up on his momentum.

It was a bad move.

Unlike most combatants Pyrrha knew, Declan didn't have years of practice with his weapons of choice to perfect such techniques. As such, his little spin into a kick left him badly off balance, and all too easy to catch. His foot landed firmly in the crook of Pyrrha's elbow, and with that, the fight was over. Pyrrha let off a slugging one-handed swing to get said point across properly.

And Declan likely thought that Jaune hit hard. Pyrrha's blade collided against Declan's rib cage and left him sprawled out over the floor, groaning in agony. To his credit, he actually put up a contest, unlike most of his peers.

"Gooood  _Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn!_ " he moaned, curling up and grabbing at his bruised ribs, and even more bruised ego. "You hit like a small BUS!"

"Good effort, Declan! At least I know you're trying," Pyrrha assured him, releasing his leg and allowing him to wriggle away to the other side of the mat.

"Yeah, I bet you say that to  _all_ the pretty boys, huh? Agh, shit…"

Once Declan collected himself and limped off after the others, who had all taken their seats off behind Bradford and Jaune, it was only Roderick and Remi left standing.

"Alright, which of you two wants it?" Bradford asked, audibly amused now. This 'training' session had become more of an impromptu beatdown than anything educational, but from the sound and look of things, Bradford apparently wanted this to happen. Pyrrha made a mental note to ask about it later, if it came up.

Roderick and Remi looked at each other first, then at Pyrrha, then back at each other. Slowly, they began to point a finger at one another. Even more slowly, Remi's finger went down.

"Alright, fine, let's get this over with," the pierced man muttered, flipping his sword in his hand and turning to Pyrrha. He stepped onto the mat, and put one foot forward in a side stance, with the blade pointing outwards to her. It would have been a good fencing position, if he had a rapier or saber, but with the heavy, unwieldy training blade, it looked sort of odd. Still, it showed that he knew his form, and wasn't just a novice like the others.

Remi stepped in first, giving an experimental swipe of the blade that Pyrrha stepped away from, before lunging in for her own attack. Remi rapidly parroted her evasion, switching feet and bringing the blade to a two-handed grip before swiping her blade aside, and attacking with a hefty overhead slash. While Pyrrha was able to block it, Remi's momentum pushed her blade far enough down that he was able to get a solid hit on her, grazing her across the face and forcing her Aura to kick in. She couldn't take too many more hits before it broke. With that in mind, she went on the defensive, allowing Remi to enter what he must consider his sphere, judging by the confidence with which he began his assault. One thing that surprised her was how quick the man was. Compared to every other opponent she'd faced thus far, only Declan was anywhere close to Remi's sheer speed. He didn't sacrifice power, either- he simply was an aggressive, vicious combatant who maintained just enough discipline to control the path of his blade and the pace of his attack. If she had her shield, Pyrrha would be able to simply wear him down, but with just a sword, it was all she could do to parry his attacks and wait for an opening, or a quirk in his positioning that allowed her to take back the advantage.

After what felt like an eternity of being wailed on and blocking a barrage of swings, something caught Pyrrha's attention. Remi was beginning to slow down, almost imperceptibly, and his eyes were beginning to wander. He was thinking the same thing that Pyrrha was. Likely, he was looking for a gap in her defense that he could quickly exploit to put an end to this bout.

She couldn't afford to give him that opening. During the gap between one of his strikes and the next, Pyrrha forced her sword outward, blade clashing against blade as she pushed Remi back and turned the momentum back to her side. Rapidly, she found purchase with a solid strike that hit Remi in the stomach, but unlike every other (Non-Declan) opponent she'd actually struck, Remi didn't back down. He let out a pained grunt, but that was the only acknowledgement he'd given. With surprising alacrity, he grabbed Pyrrha's training blade with one hand, before bashing her in the head with the pommel of his sword, sending her stumbling backwards with a sizeable dent in her very limited Aura pool. With the advantage back in his corner, Remi launched another attack, leaping in with his blade over his head to put an end to the contest by force.

He'd grown overconfident.  _And to think,_ Pyrrha mused,  _he watched Declan do the exact same thing._

Pyrrha rapidly rushed forward, jumping upward and kicking out with one leg at Remi's stomach, knocking him askew and sending them both to the floor. Pyrrha, as she anticipated, was the first to regain her bearings, rolling to the side and bringing herself next to Remi, and pointing her blade at his throat.

"You did very well, Sergeant!" she congratulated him. Remi just scowled, slapping the blade away.

"Fucking bullshit," he muttered as he pulled himself up. "Roderick! Try not to make a damn fool of yourself."

Roderick shrugged his shoulders and gave a nervous smile, before grabbing a firm hold of his own blade. "Alright, alright, alriiiight…"

* * *

Roderick had tried, indeed, he'd tried very hard, but against Remi's advice, he did make a damn fool of himself. He'd put all of his might into one huge, fancy spinning swing, and for his trouble, he got a bloody nose.

To be fair, that wasn't Pyrrha's intention. It's just that, when he hit her blade with his own, his momentum carried him face first into the side of her head, and he smashed into her circlet. The impact was so forceful it actually overloaded her Aura, and now she was rubbing her aching temple while Roderick pinched his nose shut.

 _I really should have dodged that_ , Pyrrha thought to herself. In fact, she wasn't exactly sure why she hadn't. She just felt… off. Everything going on just threw her off in the worst way.

"Braddock, that was some piss-poor swordsmanship right there, and I'd know, I'm just as bad at this as you are," Bradford stated, although he couldn't help but smile just a little bit. Jaune didn't find it funny at all, immediately pulling Pyrrha to the side and mothering over her like his own sisters had probably done him, years ago.

"I fucked up, Central!" was all Braddock could say in reply, his voice warped by his attempts at self-medicating. "I fucked up!"

"Man, and I thought I got off bad," Keenan muttered.

"Now that you've all gotten the shit kicked out of you," Bradford started again, "we can start moving on. What you all hopefully learned here is that your blade work is subpar, as a whole. We've got Stun Lancers out there that have been genetically bred to swing a baton or sword around like they were born with one in their hand, and if they take you down, you're not getting back up. Say what you want about Miss Nikos' 'feminine touch', but at least she's not going to kill you. Once you all get yourselves sorted out and unfuck yourselves, she's gonna give you all some pointers based on what she and I have observed from the 'matches'. "

"Just give me a minute," Pyrrha called out, shaking her head a few times and clearing out the mental haze as best she could.

"You sure you're gonna be okay?" Jaune asked, placing a hand on her shoulder in a way that simultaneously made her both grounded, and a bit nervous. He didn't have any gloves on, and she'd just noticed for apparently the first time that his hands were really, really,  _really_ -

_Okay, we're not going to do this in front of a bunch of soldiers, Pyrrha Nikos._

_But his hands are so soft and gentle!_

_Shut up, woman, you're trying to TEACH! You're not a blushing schoolgirl, you can fantasize those hands playing grab-ass with you later._

_I do NOT fantasize about 'grab-ass'!_

_Why are you yelling at yourself?_

Pyrrha let out a sigh, and rolled her shoulders and neck again. "Yes, Jaune, I'll be fine. I hope you learned something from all this."

"Yeah," Jaune replied, followed by a short, airy chuckle that Pyrrha quickly found herself endeared by. "I learned not to spin."

* * *

Maybe an hour after Pyrrha's demonstration/beatdown/lesson concluded, the GTS was once again occupied, albeit not with further violence and swordplay. Instead, Murphy had come to work off his stress, as he often did, and Alexios followed, as was also normal.

Murphy had a lot of stress to work off.

"Murphy, I'm pretty sure I've told you this before, but I'm rather certain I can shatter stone against your chest," Alexios joked from the nearby treadmill as Murphy examined himself in the GTS' standing mirror. Murphy wasn't a proud man. He hated braggarts and showoffs, couldn't stand gloating or preening- he was a quiet man, who preferred to stand in the background whenever possible. Of course, a military life and genetics made it hard. As much as he wanted to dismiss Alexios' praise as a good-natured rib, the imposing height and brick-wall frame was indeed something most men would be proud of, and something that far too many people commented on.

Murphy couldn't bring himself to be proud at all. After all, a lot of good this physique had done him.

"Yeah, you told me once," Murphy replied, windmilling and shaking his arms as he limbered himself up. He wasn't sure what he'd do first today. The punching bags? The treadmills, maybe. Or maybe the bench instead?

He needed to punch something.

Pulling his gloves taut, Murphy turned his attention to the punching bag. It was old, ratty, and barely holding together through the patchwork, but it would do. As he threw a few phantom punches to warm up, Alexios continued speaking.

"Have you seen Adam?"

"Nah, not since we got back. Why?" Murphy had often found himself in the company of his fellow veteran, to the point where many assumed they were friends. They weren't, really. Adam came to him for advice and occasional restraint regarding his alien genome-induced rage, but other than that, they rarely spoke.

"I heard that he and Other Nikos had a little spat, someone was putting money on a fight," Alexios explained, smirking as he picked up the pace of his run. "My money's on her. Might be biased, though."

Murphy just shook his head with a wan smirk, before throwing a quick, exploratory jab at the punching bag. Nothing too rough or severe. Just testing the waters. "She wears the name better than you do, Alexios."

"Hey, hey, hey, that's just rude!" Alexios was chuckling, the same low rumbling chuckle he used when confronted with anything that wasn't life threatening. "Got some good news on the home front."

"Oh, what about?" Murphy asked, before throwing another punch at the bag with his left, then a hard right. The contact sent shocks up his forearm, kept him grounded.

"Kassandra's condition is improving. It looks like the procedure did what was promised. She's in remission now, or so it seems." Alexios' joy was audible in his voice, and Murphy couldn't help but feel similarly happy for the man. Kassandra was a sweet little thing, didn't deserve what she'd gotten. It was good to know that God… or someone… was still watching over her.

"That's great news, mate, really. You still going for that Plan B, though?" he asked. Right hook, left hook, pull the bag back, right hook again.

"Yes, if we win fast enough," Alexios replied, slowing his pace to a brisk jog. " Say what you will about ADVENT, but the Gene Therapy really works. It worked for my papa, bless the poor old man. I believe he's still in Santorini."

"They didn't target your family?" Murphy was incredulous- he'd heard plenty of horror stories about what happened to the friends and family of defectors.

"They targeted me and my household, yes, but my father didn't know anything about what I was doing. ADVENT is cruel, but they normally don't go that far unless they're sending a message. It's impractical, and bad PR if they can't doctor up enough evidence."

"Yeah, well, the disappearances are bad PR," Murphy countered, throwing another left hook, then an uppercut with the right, then a big elbow with the right. He could feel his muscles tightening, and there was a slight burn running up his arms. It was a good pain, the kind of pain that reminded you that you were still alive, still breathing, still fighting. "What about that?"

"They blame it on us, Murphy," Alexios replied, a bit quieter. "List them as killed in dissident attacks, and occasionally manufacture said dissident attacks when there aren't any to work with."

"Christ." Murphy hadn't known all of that- he didn't keep up with the news or current events outside of XCOM anymore. He didn't like being reminded that there  _was_ an outside world. He felt segregated from it, like an alien.  _Heh. Alien._

A few more hefty punches, and the leather of Murphy's gloves was starting to chafe his knuckles. He wasn't near ready to stop. He'd stop when he got tired, when his arms ached and his fists hurt so much that he didn't have to think about the little girl in the infirmary anymore.

"So, what brings you in today? Adam? The kids? Just thinking about… you know?" Alexios asked, broaching the last of those subjects very cautiously. "I know about Nora."

"Yeah, surprised no one who knows has commented on it."

"They don't look anything alike, Murphy."

The punches had a bit more force behind them. "That doesn't help. You should now that, you've been there."

"Yes, but Pyrrha and Kassandra are nothing alike. It doesn't bother me a bit. Okay, well, maybe a little, but only because when someone says 'Nikos' I automatically assume they're talking about her. No one other than Shen really asks for me, anyway." Alexios shrugged, now at walking speed and cooling off from his admittedly short run. He'd told Murphy he wasn't in any particular mood for strenuous exercise today, so it made sense for him to stop now. "Nora's got a lot in common with your daughter, though, doesn't she?"

Murphy was not a fan of this line of questioning.

"Not really," Murphy lied.

Alexios' eyes drifted to the tattoo on Murphy's arm. Murphy knew which one, too. The bust of a girl with bright green eyes, flaxen hair just like her mother, and (much to young Eleanor's chagrin) her dad's nose. The only tattoo Murphy had out of the six that had any color that wasn't bluish-black.

"I don't know, the eyes?" Alexios asked.

"Shut up, Lex." Another punch, a bit harder than Murphy intended. The bag swung back so hard that Murphy's second punch hit nothing but empty air.

"Are you all tight up there, Lieutenant?" Alexios asked, stepping off the treadmill.

"CAPTAIN, for fuck's sake! Does nobody know how  _fucking_ rank works here, Lex?" Murphy growled, throwing a hefty haymaker at the bag, shaking the chain connecting it to the post and busting one of the patches. With each punch came a rise in the volume of his voice. "I've been called Lieutenant and Captain back and forth depending on the fucking mood, no one knows anyone's fucking rank, we don't even follow fucking rank protocol when we DO remember rank, and you've got ME IN CHARGE OF A FUCKING FIRETEAM! ME!"

Another haymaker, and the seams near the point of impact began to fray. Two more vicious hooks, then another haymaker.

"Hey,  _Captain_ , chill," Alexios said, approaching Murphy carefully and attempting to mollify him. "You've been doing a fine job in command thus far, what's this all about?"

_You wouldn't know a fine job if it beat you over the fuckin' head._

Murphy threw another slugging right hand at the bag, then another left. His fists were starting to hurt with each impact, like he was hitting a wall instead of a sand-filled bag. It still didn't hurt nearly enough to justify things. Justify the repeated lapses in judgement back in the SOER.

_Not enough to justify not being there for your children when they needed you. To justify the last thing you ever said to your family being a hateful spew of rage and 'responsibility'. Justify-_

"Murphy, I'm talking to you, gia chári tou! You've been out of it since you got back from the op, what's going on?"

_-having all this responsibility thrown on you because you're 'special forces'. To justify all of the dead bodies behind you when you first stepped on board this damn ship. To justify the decisions you made that made so many others feel the exact same pain you did. To justify putting these kid's in harm's way because WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU TAKE TEENAGERS INTO A COMBAT ZONE? To justify allowing your irresponsibility to nearly cost one of them their lives._

Another punch split the bag at the top, causing sand to slowly leak out and run down the side of the bag as Alexios grabbed Murphy's right arm mid-punch.

"You know, Cap, I asked you a question," he stated. For once, Alexios didn't sound bored, or tired, or disinterested. His voice had a hard edge to it now, and his eyes were boring into Murphy's like two hard-edged emeralds. It unnerved the Aussie to be looked at that way.

Murphy yanked his arm free easily. He had more strength in one arm than Alexios probably had in both of his. Still, he didn't resume punching the bag.

"I'm not cut out for this," Murphy said, quietly. "I'm not a leader."

"The fuck you aren't. Every op you've been on has been a resounding win for us."

"Tell that to Jane, or Silas. Oh, that's right, you can't, because they're DEAD!" Murphy retorted, gripping his fist so tightly that he could feel his fingernails digging indents in his gloves. "That isn't a bloody success, Alex! I'm a soldier, always have been, but I've never been a leader! I was always the one who just followed orders and got shit done, I wasn't FIT to lead! And from the day I was shoved into a leadership role, I screwed it. I screwed it so fuckin' sideways that I can barely fuckin' sleep! You all don't get it! You weren't in Sydney, and you weren't in Perth, and you most certainly weren't at the Rock!"

"You carried us through that tower, Murphy-"

"The kids did, don't fuckin' kid yourself, Lex." Murphy threw his arm out in the direction of the infirmary. "And now one of 'em's got their fucking brains boiled because I wasn't paying attention!"

"Thee mou, Murphy! You're telling me you  _can't_ read minds?" Alexios asked with faux amazement. "Shit, and here I was thinking that all that praying you do brought you  _closer_ to God. No one is fucking perfect!" The Greek threw his arms out, his voice hitting a fever pitch as he slammed his hands back together in a gesture that Murphy recognized from recordings of his lectures back in Alexios' glory days. He only did this when he was passionate about something. "I get where you're coming from, Murphy. I haven't been where you are mentally, but I can see it. But you are doing the best you can. I know you don't believe that, but you are. Hitman lives and dies behind you- the five of us would never be able to coexist without you. I fucking hate Bridget, the stupid whore she is, she hates me and Joseph because 'imagine being homosexual in 2035!', and Roderick and Jerry were about to kill each other when they got on this boat."

Alexios grabbed Murphy's shoulder and gave it a rough shove. " But you, Murphy, you brought us together, and most importantly you  _keep_ us together. Nobody else on this ship could do that. Adam either wants to shoot himself or everyone else, never anywhere in between, I'm quite certain Wolf Mother is a damned psychopath who would throw her men into the meat grinder if it meant we'd win, and FUCK Remi. Damn him to hell, I don't know why we keep him on this ship! When these kids came on board, you were the first person to volunteer to help them, did you know that? Nobody else stepped up to the plate. When we were in that damn tower, you kept all eight of our people out there alive."

Murphy went to say something, only for Alexios to cut him off. "And yes, I just called the kids 'our people', because they ARE. They definitely are to you, because you have something that no other squad leader on this fucking ship has, Murphy. You have a fucking  _heart._ "

"And look how far that's gotten us," Murphy replied, his voice unusually timid and entirely too airy. He wasn't even sure he'd said that, that's how… wrong… it sounded. "How many people have those teams lost?"

"Remi lost Wade when the Avenger went down. Wolf lost De Sade and Wilder."

"And did that happen because of a mistake that Remi or Sharon made?" Murphy asked, pushing Alexios away from him. "Keep your praise for someone who actually deserves it. I need some air."

Murphy turned and skulked towards the door, only for Alexios to once again interrupt him, grabbing a hold of his shoulder and pulling him back. Green met green, and Alexios's steely gaze returned if only for a moment.

"Go talk to Jerry. For the team's sake."

Murphy closed his eyes, and let out a ragged sigh. Of  _course_ they'd say to talk to Jerry. "He's not a bloody therapist."

Nevertheless, he'd go. He needed to check on Nora anyway.

The walk to the infirmary was rather uneventful. It was the early afternoon, so there wasn't much going on other than the research staff bustling about. Pretty soon there was gonna be another patrol sent out to watch the haven, and although Murphy didn't see his name in the rotation, he did notice that Roderick and Joseph were both on the board. Joseph didn't like leaving the ship, so that would certainly be fun.

Once he reached the infirmary, Murphy caught Pyrrha walking out, with fresh tape on her upper arm, and Ren standing by the door, peering inside.

"Oi," Murphy greeted him, giving an offhand wave. Ren's eyes snapped to Murphy so fast that the Aussie got secondhand whiplash just watching it.

"Captain."

 _Someone's paying attention_ , Murphy noted. "How's she doin'?"

"Sleeping. No improvement from yesterday, but she hasn't gotten any worse, either," Ren replied. "Corporal Hall's doing all he can."

"He's a good man. Nora's in good hands, lad. How're you holdin' up?" Murphy stopped next to the door, looking down at the boy and attempting to put up a convincingly neutral expression. Considering all the thoughts bouncing off Murphy's skull right now, that was rather difficult.

"I'm alright. Just… checking in." Ren's attention turned back to the interior of the infirmary, and to his friend. Murphy found it heartening that at the very least, they had each other's backs… whether anyone else on this boat cared about them or not.

"Mind if I go in? Need to talk to Jerry."

Ren stepped out of Murphy's way, and Murphy stepped over the threshold before turning back to Ren. "You should get some rest. Go relax, get a drink or something."

"I'll be fine, but thank you."

"Mate, Nora will be fine for a few minutes. Trust me."

Ren looked at him with that same damn look he'd had the other day. Murphy wasn't sure what to make of it- it was like a caged up dog, one that hadn't been fed in days and was fighting tooth and nail against the bars to get out. He wasn't sure exactly what it was that Nora and Ren had, but it was certainly important to the both of them.

"Alright," Ren conceded. His eyes drifted away from Murphy, but notably, he placed a hand on the bigger man's arm. Murphy was confused; first by the gesture, since Ren wasn't a very expressive or touchy individual in his experience, and secondly by the fact that he suddenly felt a lot less shitty. The things that were plaguing him still lingered in the back of his mind, but he no longer felt like he was about to explode.

It was a lovely feeling, really.

Stepping the rest of the way into the infirmary, Murphy took stock of what was going on. Nora was indeed sleeping rather peacefully, actually curled up in a blanket instead of laying ramrod straight. Most of the machines and readers had been unplugged and removed, with only a few electrodes on her head remaining, and even those were just wireless. Jerry stood off on the other side of the room, looking at scans and pictures. One thing that looked noticeably different was the slightest of bruises at the base of his neck.

Murphy grinned in spite of himself.

"I thought you and Sophie weren't intimate, lad," Murphy spoke up, and Jerry visibly recoiled, his hands gripping the PDA in front of him in a vice.  _Never gets old._

"Even if we  _were,_ why would it be your business, Murph?" Jerry asked, exasperated, as he looked up from his work. "What are you even doing here? Did Roderick tell you?"

"Nah. Lex wanted me to talk to you about something, sent me over."

"Huh. What does he want to do with me? We're not exactly the best of friends, you know that," Jerry stated matter-of-factly as he returned his attention to the scans. Indeed, outside of Bridget and everyone else, Jerry and Alexios probably had the worst two-way dynamic of the team when they'd met. While Roderick and Jerry were just a clash of personalities, Jerry and Alexios had a much different paradigm. Jerry didn't like ADVENT collaborators- he considered such people the very definition of a categorical traitor. While this extended to a distaste for Konstatin or Kyle, in Lex's case it was downright  _disdain_. Murphy disagreed with such a feeling, Alexios was a fine man, as devoted to the cause as anyone, but to Jerry's credit, no one else on this ship besides Tygan had contributed actively to ADVENT's efforts… and Alexios.

"I don't remember," Murphy lied, so fluidly that it felt practically identical to the truth. "Prolly somethin' about the tyke. How she doin'?"

"Same as she was when you asked Ren, I got ears."

"I know you got ears, lad, but I get the feeling you might be telling him something that you're not telling me, and vice versa."

"Trust me, if I had any news, good or bad, you'd know," Jerry assured him, putting his PDA back on the counter and turning to look at Nora. "I'm hoping Assassin gets their shit together and pulls that op off soon. If her Aura doesn't kick in and start repairing the damage, we're gonna have a big problem getting her back home in one piece."

Murphy nodded in agreement, already trying to think up plans for how to keep Nora out of the line of fire in the worst case scenario.

"On top of that, I'm out of the meds for Declan and Bridget," Jerry explained, frustration bubbling just below the surface of his voice as he pored over his desk, "I still haven't convinced Bradford that his liver is more important than the bar, and apparently the Commander's headaches aren't getting any better, so there's that, too." The medic eventually found his way to a chair alongside an unoccupied bed, and slumped down, visibly exhausted. "I don't know how the heck these XCOM guys did it back then. Keeping up with all this crap on top of fighting aliens every day."

"I dunno either, mate," Murphy admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't have the fuckin' foggiest."


End file.
